


When Secrets Fall

by glowbronze



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Season 2 spoilers, The whole class will probably show up, Trauma, eventual identity reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowbronze/pseuds/glowbronze
Summary: "Marinette was falling. It was at least seventy feet to the Seine below. And that water was going to hurt."---When Marinette is injured as a civilian during an akuma attack, Chat Noir and the entire city are left wondering where Ladybug is.Chat is left to deal with the wreckage while Marinette heals, unable to let him know that Ladybug is okay.Soon, Hawkmoth realizes the city is down a hero, and the events set in motion will change everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a little short and I apologize. It's mostly just to set up the plot and conflict of this fic. I promise subsequent chapters will be longer.
> 
> This is my first ever fan-fiction, so I'm trying to get a hang of things. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Marinette was falling. The realization of which took longer than it should have, mostly due to the fact that there was no particular reason for her to be falling. She had been strolling across the Pont des Arts, sketchbook in hand, looking for the perfect inspiration, when the bridge just disappeared.

 

She had to think of something, quick. There were at least a dozen other patrons on the bridge, and they were all falling through the open air as she was. It must have been an akuma.

 

She couldn’t transform. Not with all these people around. And even if she did, there was nothing for her yo-yo to grasp onto, and there was certainly no way she would be able to catch all these people before they hit the water. No, Ladybug wouldn’t be of much use.

 

Marinette was falling. It was at least seventy feet to the Seine below. And that water was going to hurt.

 

She frantically tried to recall anything that would help her in this situation, and briefly remembered watching a video on cliff diving. She had to hit the water in a way that would break the surface tension. Or something like that. She wished she could remember more and pointed her toes toward the fast approaching water.

 

“Marinette!” a small voice called from her purse. The kwami’s eyes were wide with concern and met the girl’s as they both braced for impact.

 

The water sliced through her, cold and black. She felt sharp pains in her legs, and as her vision began to fade, she noticed others in the water alongside her. She panicked, trying to pull her limbs into action. She had to help them. They were dead weight around her, however, and she struggled to find any feeling in them.

 

She thrashed, fighting the water and the sinking feeling in her chest. The last thing she remembered was a flash of red before drifting into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

The photo shoot was dragging, Adrien was tired, and he could tell the photographer sensed it. They were shooting in front of the Louvre for his father’s new summer line.

 

“Come on, show me a smile, you’re supposed to be happy!” The photographer said, crouching for a new angle. Adrien gave him a tired smile, which only caused the photographer to groan. “No, no. This is all off!”

 

“Sorry, Vincent,” Adrien said, “I’m just a little tired. I—”

 

Whatever excuse he was about to give was interrupted by screams nearby. Without thinking, he sprinted toward the sound, ignoring the shouts of his photographer and bodyguard behind him.

 

Within minutes he arrived where the Pont des Arts should have been. People around him we in pandemonium. He dashed behind a building.

 

“Plagg!” he called.

 

“What?” the kwami said, “I’m sleeping!”

 

“No time for that, I think Hawkmoth’s unleashed another akuma. The Pont des Arts is gone!”

 

“Let Ladybug deal with it.”

 

Adrien sighed. “Plagg, _Transformez-moi_!” The kwami groaned as he was sucked into the ring.

 

He ran back to where the bridge should have been and saw that ambulances had arrived.  He touched someone’s arm.

 

“Chat Noir!” the man said in surprise.

 

“What happened?”

 

“The bridge just disappeared. The EMTs are trying to get everyone out from the water—”

 

Chat Noir was off before the man could finish, running towards the EMTs. “How can I help?”

 

They didn’t have time to answer, however, as screams echoed back from where he had just come. “Just get the akuma,” a female EMT said in a somewhat strained voice, “We can handle getting people out of the water.”

 

He nodded and with a two-fingered salute, he extended his staff up and vaulted to the square that was supposed to house the now-absent Louvre.

 

He didn’t see the medics rushing his classmate onto a stretcher as they pulled her from the Seine. He only heard the sirens as he turned to confront the cartoonish-colored man holding a camera shouting that no one else would be able to photograph the tourist attractions of Paris ever again.

 

_At least its obvious where the akuma is hiding_ , he thought, hoping that Ladybug would arrive soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I know its short so its hard to gauge, but let me know what I can improve.
> 
> I have some of the beginning-ish-middle chapters written, but not the next one. Oops.
> 
> Most of the story is planned out (not the ending though), so hopefully I'll be updating at a regular pace. Be warned, I am a full-time student and I'm taking over 21 credits this semester. I get very busy and very stressed.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter you were promised, a longer chapter you shall receive.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one.

When Marinette regained consciousness, it was in a place she didn’t recognize. The walls were stark, the bright white reflected fluorescent lights overhead which hurt her eyes. “Urgh,” she grumbled, squeezing them shut. Her motion was caught by a nurse, who rushed over.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

Marinette opened her eyes again and lifted her head to look at the woman, but the room began to swirl, and she fell back into a pillow. “Ow,” was all she said.

 

The nurse chuckled a bit. “You probably shouldn’t try to move around too much. Do you remember what happened?”

 

Marinette paused. She was in a hospital. She tried to concentrate on why. “I was…on a bridge. I was falling.” She strained to remember more but could not figure out why she had fallen. The transition made no sense.

 

“That’s right, sweetie. That bridge went and disappeared on you. You broke your toes in a couple places on your right foot. There’s a lot of fracturing in both your legs. You went into shock once under water and the EMTs had to revive you. You had a lot of fluid in your lungs and mild hypothermia.”

 

“Disappeared? I…” was all Marinette was able to say. The nurse offered her a sympathetic smile.

 

“Don’t strain yourself, sweetie. A doctor will walk you through everything once you’re feeling a bit better. In the meantime, do you feel up for visitors? Your parents have been very worried about you.”

 

She nodded fervently, and immediately regretted the action as a wave of nausea passed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the room from spinning again.

 

“Are you sure?” The nurse asked. “You can say no if you need to rest.”

 

“How long have I been out?” Marinette asked, eyes still closed.

 

“About eight hours.”

 

“Eight…” Marinette repeated in shock. “Yes, I want to see them.”

 

The nurse nodded and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Marinette opened her eyes and said in a frantic whisper, “Tikki!”

 

No red blur greeted her, and she sank back into the hospital bed. Where was she? Instinctively, her hand flew to her ears to make sure the earrings were still there. They were, but the action was difficult due to all the wires and tubes attached to her arm. She was still staring at them when the door opened, and her parents rushed in.

 

“Oh, Marinette, sweetie!” her mom rushed to give her a hug but paused when she saw how fragile her daughter looked, hooked up to all the machines. She settled for a gentle half hug and sat at the end of Marinette’s bed.

 

Her father loomed behind her, his kind eyes smiling sadly at her. A hand was on his wife’s shoulder. “You gave us quite a scare there,” he said.

 

She looked between her parent’s earnest faces and felt a tad guilty. It was her fault she was injured, it had to be. Given her clumsiness, she had probably waltzed right over the railing. She had caused them stress and emotional pain.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice small and sounding like a child’s upon being given a scolding.

 

“Now, now dear, there’s nothing to apologize for,” her mother said.

 

“I still don’t quite understand what happened. Where did the bridge go?” she asked, still trying to make sense of the situation. Then she would decide if it was her fault.

 

“An akuma,” her father said simply. Her heart sank. So, it _was_ her fault. She should have been able to stop it. Her father continued upon seeing her face contort with worry, “But don’t worry about that. You just need to worry about getting better.”

 

“How many others were injured?” she asked.

 

“You don’t need to worry about that right now,” her mother echoed. She shook her head, ignoring the waves of nausea. That was bad. It had to be a lot if they didn’t want to tell her.

 

“Please,” she begged, “I need to know.” How many people had she failed? How many people had gotten hurt because she wasn’t there to stop an akuma? What if it had been too long and she couldn’t reverse the damage? What if someone had died? The nurse had said the EMTs revived her. How many others did they revive? Or failed to revive? She felt sick to her stomach and it wasn’t due to the rocking motion in her head.

 

She didn’t notice the frantic beeping of the monitor beside her. She just stared, wide-eyed at her parents, lost in her anxieties as two nurses rushed in to see what was wrong.

 

“Her heart rate is spiking,” one nurse said. Another, the nurse from before, approached her.

 

“Marinette, I need you to calm down. Deep breaths, please.”

 

Marinette couldn’t focus on what they were saying. Her heart was in her ears, pounding, ringing. She had failed. People had gotten seriously hurt because of _her_. Her parents had been scared because of _her_. She caused this. She had been right that very first day. She wasn’t the right one for the job. The room swam before her as several layers of nausea built within her.

 

“Sedate her,” she heard a nurse say. She felt a cold liquid seep in through the tubes in her arm.

 

_No_ , she tried to respond, _no, just let me suffer. I deserve it._ But the clouds of sleep pulled her in, eyelids began to droop, and soon she was floating. Snippets of conversation washed over her, reaching her like ocean waves at low tide, getting father and father away.

 

“…terribly sorry…”

 

“…no visitors for a while…she needs to heal…”

 

“…rest…away from stressors…”

 

“…traumatic…”

 

None of the words made sense, but Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was drifting, floating. It wasn’t long before she gave herself completely to the folds of sleep.

 

* * *

 

Marinette wasn’t allowed visitors for two days, and she was forbidden from watching the news or reading anything about what had happened. The hospital staff had identified news about the akuma attack as a stressor and seemed to think she was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic anxiety.

 

All of which Marinette thought was bullshit. They had no idea why she was upset, how could they? They didn’t know she was secretly Ladybug. She needed to know what was happening, how Chat Noir had handled things, what had happened to the akuma when she wasn’t there to purify it.

 

She wondered where Tikki was. Surely the kwami wasn’t still in the river. She shivered at the thought. No, she was probably hidden in her purse somewhere, with the rest of the clothes she had been wearing that day.

 

It was only day one of her no visitor sentence, and Marinette was already growing restless. The room didn’t spin anymore when she lifted her head, so the bed was propped up in a sitting position. She had recently finished lunch and the tray sat on the bedside table. Her head hurt too much to watch TV, or what few channels were deemed stressor-free of TV, so she just sat there, bored out of her mind, tapping her fingers on the bed’s railing, and trying not to let her thoughts wander.

 

She focused on the rhythmic motion of her tapping and began to feel drowsy, even though it seemed all she did was sleep. She was about to drift off when she noticed a small red blur phase through the door to her room.

 

“Tikki!” she cried, sitting up. The kwami floated to meet her, a wide grin on her face. “You’re okay! I couldn’t find you when I woke up and I can’t walk and there were all these people about and I didn’t know what had happened to you and—”

 

“Marinette, slow down,” the kwami laughed softly, the sound light. It filled Marinette with such joy she almost forgot where she was.

 

“I’m just so relieved,” Marinette said, “I’m so happy to see you. What happened?”

 

“I tried to transform you while you were in the water, to minimize the damage. When you were pulled out, I left the transformation and hid in your purse.”

 

Marinette nodded. She remembered a red blur before she passed out. “But where have you been this whole time?”

 

“Hiding!” Tikki squeaked. “It’s like you said, there’s lots of people about. I had to make sure I wasn’t seen as I came to find you!”

 

“I’m glad you did,” Marinette said, cupping her hands as the kwami floated down to rest in them. “But how?”

 

“Hm?” Tikki hummed, closing her eyes as Marinette pet her gently.

 

“How did you find me?”

 

The kwami smiled and drifted up so she met Marinette’s eyes. “I could never lose those earrings,” she said, nuzzling against the girl’s cheek, “As long as you have them, Marinette, I will always find you.”

 

* * *

 

She started physical therapy on her third day of admittance. Her legs were in large braces, and they had to wheel her to and from her room and the therapy gym. The therapist assured her it was only a temporary thing—she’d graduate to crutches in no time.

 

She had just been wheeled back to her room and settled back into the hospital bed, when a familiar face burst through the door.

 

"Alya!”

 

“Marinette! Girl, I can’t believe you were on that bridge! Someone uploaded footage of the attack to the Ladyblog and when I saw you I damn near lost my mind. I’m so glad you’re okay!” She paused, looking at the braces on Marinette’s legs. “Well, mostly okay.” She added with a grin.

 

“What happened?” Marinette was eager to hear any news and she thought she couldn’t smile any wider upon seeing her best friend.

 

“Didn’t you see? Its all over the Ladyblog!”

 

“Well, given that my phone is at the bottom of the Seine and the hospital staff seem to think I’ll flip or something if I see the news…no.”

 

Alya cringed, “Oh sorry girl, that’s rotten luck.”

 

“Yeah, real rotten,” Marinette said darkly. Alya had no clue. She was supposed to be lady luck herself. It was painfully ironic. She couldn’t wallow in that fact for long, though, it was hard to get Alya sidetracked.

 

“Oh! But the akuma attack! Apparently, some photographer’s photos got majorly rejected for the tourism board, so he tried to make all of Paris’s landmarks disappear.”

 

“Let me guess, he was called ‘Photo Finish’.”

 

“Close, just ‘Photographer’. Hawkmoth’s getting lazy with these names. Here’s the strange thing though, Ladybug never showed. It was all Chat Noir.”

 

Marinette felt her throat go dry. “Was he able to defeat the akuma?”

 

“Yeah girl! You should have seen him! Or, wait, here.” She fumbled with her phone and Marinette exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Alya handed the device over and pressed play on a video on the Ladyblog.

 

Marinette watched as Chat Noir slid past the Photographer and grabbed the camera from his hands. She watched him hesitate. He looked around, obviously searching for her, for Ladybug. After a moment, he grabbed a nearby jar and broke the camera where the akuma was hiding. When the butterfly emerged, he brought the jar down atop it and quickly popped on the lid. The akumatised man de-transformed, but Chat was unable to help him. The akuma had phased through the glass, and he brought the jar back down around it. This persisted as he vaulted away, running across the rooftops, trying to contain the small black butterfly. All too soon, the video ended.

 

Marinette was shocked, but at the same time, she felt a bit of warmth in her chest. Her kitty had done well. She looked at Alya, who was carefully observing her reaction. Perhaps she had taken what she had said about the hospital staff and trauma to heart. “What happened to the akuma after that?” she asked.

 

Alya shrugged, “No one knows. But there haven’t been anymore people transformed like with Stoneheart. Chat Noir must’ve figured something out.”

 

Marinette sighed in relief. “At least there’s some good news.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re not asking the big question.” Alya said, extending her arms wide for emphasis.

 

She laughed despite herself. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the ‘big question’?”

 

Alya grabbed her phone back and tapped the screen a couple times before turning it back to face Marinette.

 

Displayed in bold letters, was the newest article on the Ladyblog. Marinette’s heart sunk when she read the title,

 

**_Where is Ladybug?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. 
> 
> No Adrien in this chapter, but don't worry, there'll be plenty in the next.


	3. Chapter 3

Alya and Nino were chatting when Adrien walked into the classroom.

 

“Hey dude,” Nino said as he took his seat.

 

“Hey,” Adrien turned to Alya, “How’s Marinette?” He asked.

 

Alya smiled. “Much better. She got to go home yesterday, but the doctor says its still too soon for her to go back to school.”

 

Adrien’s face fell slightly. It had been almost a week since the akuma attack that had left his friend and a little over a dozen others in the hospital. He wouldn’t admit it, especially to Nino, but he really missed Marinette. He couldn’t help but feel it was partially his fault. If he had gotten there sooner, maybe she’d be okay.

 

And then there was Ladybug. He had searched all over for her. Every night he scoured the city, trying to call her, and every night he returned home empty handed. The mansion seemed even lonelier to return to with each subsequent night Ladybug was missing.

 

“Earth to Adrien?” Nino was waving a hand in front of his face.

 

Adrien snapped to attention. “Err, sorry, what were you saying?” He asked, reaching his hand to the back of his head, and smiling sheepishly.

 

“I was saying,” Alya huffed, “That I was going to visit her after school. Do you want to come with me?”

 

“Yes!” Adrien said a little too excitedly and Nino shot him a confused look. “I mean, I have a photoshoot after class, but I can visit when it’s over.”

 

Alya nodded. “I’ll let her know you plan to stop by.” There was a devilish look in her eyes that Adrien didn’t quite understand.

 

* * *

 

 

When Adrien entered the bakery, Mme. Cheng was at the counter. She looked up when he walked in and waved him by.

 

“Hello Adrien,” she said, “Marinette is upstairs. I’m sure she’ll be very happy to see you. Alya left a couple of hours ago so Tom’s been sitting with her.”

 

“Thanks Mme. Cheng, I guess I have to save her from dad jokes.”

 

“You better hurry,” she chuckled. “And call me Sabine, honey.”

 

Adrien smiled and headed up the stairs to the apartment. Before he could enter, a black wisp shot up from his jacket. “ _You_ have to save her from bad jokes?” Plagg laughed.

 

“Come on Plagg, you know my jokes are _purr_ fect.” This earned him a groan from the kwami who settled back into his inner pocket.

 

He knocked on her trap door once at the top of the stairs to her room. Peeking in, he saw M. Dupain walking over.

 

“Adrien!” he said. “Come on up!” As Tom said his name, he heard a small squeak from behind the man.

 

When he entered the overly pink room, he saw Marinette propped up on her chaise, legs resting on pillows, a pair of crutches leaning on the wall nearby. Her eyes were bulging slightly, a blush settling on her cheeks.

 

“Hey Marinette,” he waved, smiling. “How are you feeling?”

 

“H-hi Adrien, you’re great! I-I mean I’m great! I mean, my leg hurts, but I, um, better now, with you?” she stammered.

 

M. Dupain chuckled. “I’ll let you two catch up. Let me know if you need anything.” He headed down the stairs from the trapdoor.

 

“We will, sir.” Adrien said.

 

“Thanks, papa,” Marinette waved.

 

Once the trapdoor was closed, Adrien stood awkwardly while Marinette sat there blushing. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. Didn’t Alya tell you I was stopping by?”

 

“No,” she sighed, a look of understanding crossing her face.  “Um, you can sit,” she gestured over to her desk chair.

 

Adrien settled into the chair and wheeled over to the chaise, noticing the array of flowers on her desk, and what looked like a bulletin board filled with photos of him. He stared at it, wondering why she had his face plastered all over her room. She did like fashion, he reasoned, maybe she was just a big fan of the Gabriel brand.

 

Marinette noticed his gaze and her face grew even darker red. “Um—” she started but he cut her off. As much as he wanted to know why the photos where there, he didn’t want to stress her out.

 

“Who are all these flowers from? I wish I had thought to bring some.”

 

“Oh! Um, don’t feel bad. The big bouquet is from my parents.” She pointed towards the next largest bundle of chrysanthemums and daisies. “Those are from Alya, and the daffodils are from Mylene, Alix, Julika, and Rose.”

 

Adrien’s gaze drifted over to a single rose in a vase, separate from the other flowers. “What about that one?” He asked, studying it. It looked vaguely familiar in a way he couldn’t place.

 

Marinette froze. “Um, that’s from…” He watched as several thoughts flickered across her face. “…uh...it’s from Chat Noir.”

 

Adrien’s own face clouded over with confusion. “When did I—” he thought aloud, eyes widening as he realized his mistake. Now it was his turn to stammer. “—I mean, when did he do that?”

 

 _Nice save, Agreste_ , he thought, hoping she hadn’t picked up on it. If she had, she didn’t show it, she seemed too stressed over what she wanted to say next.

 

She jammed her pointer fingers together and bit her lip. “Well, uh, it was before t-the bridge, around when André the ice cream man was akumatised. Chat Noir, uh, had gotten it for Ladybug. But she didn’t show up, so, um, he came to my balcony and gave it to me instead...?” Her story ended sounding more like a question, as she looked up and waited to see his reaction.

 

Adrien replayed that night in his head. True, he had visited Marinette as his alter ego, but he hadn’t given her the rose. No, he definitely remembered giving it to Ladybug. After she called him her best friend. And he had kissed her. He remembered that night like it was the day before; held onto it with everything he had. So why did Marinette have that rose?

 

The confused silence was interrupted as Tom peeked through the trapdoor. “I have cookies fresh from the oven,” he announced.

 

The two teens were caught up in their thoughts and jumped at the sudden entrance.

 

Marinette recovered first. “Thanks, papa,” she sighed, accepting the cookies.

 

Adrien hopped up to retrieve them. “Thanks, M. Dupain!”

 

“You’re welcome son,” the man said heartily.

 

Adrien smiled, took a bite out of a cookie, and offered the plate to Marinette.

 

“I’ll let you kids get back to your conversation.” He said with a wink.

 

“Papa!” Marinette groaned and pointedly rolled her eyes.

 

Adrien laughed, and the tension was broken. They played video games for a while, but both teens were distracted, Adrien by the rose, and Marinette by Adrien.

 

They were interrupted again about an hour later by Adrien’s cell phone announcing the arrival of his driver. He put the controller down.

 

“I guess I have to go. Can I put these away for you, or will you keep playing?” he asked, gesturing to her controller.

 

“I might play a little more,” she said. “Thank you.”

 

As he made for the trap door, Adrien took one last look at the rose. He wished he could ask Ladybug about why she didn’t have it; why she had given it to Marinette and why Marinette had lied. His thoughts drifted back to the akuma hidden in his room, his endless nights searching, and the rose was pushed from his mind. He wished he could see Ladybug and just know she was okay. He wouldn’t even ask her about the rose if it meant he could see her again.

 

“Adrien?” Marinette’s voice startled him. He must have been frozen, standing at the trapdoor.

 

“Sorry, the rose...it got me thinking about Chat Noir. And with Ladybug being missing and all.”

 

Marinette looked down. “Yeah, I heard. I hope she’s okay. Chat Noir will be fine without her in the meantime, though.”

 

Adrien looked at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. “You think? Most people say he’s nothing without Ladybug,”

 

She was already shaking her head before he could finish. “Chat Noir is just as good as Ladybug. He can protect Paris just as well as she can.”

 

He felt a new fondness for her at that moment and he was touched by her confidence in him. Confidence he didn’t think he had in himself.  “He can’t purify akumas, though. Or heal your leg.”

 

“Well, no.” Marinette paused. “At least now I have my own personal Ladybug detector. As soon as my leg’s better, I’ll know she’s back.”

 

Adrien laughed despite his concern for the situation. “Well, give me a call when that happens! I’ll be relieved to know she’s protecting Paris again.”

 

“I will,” she said, blushing.

 

“I have to go,” he said, looking down at his phone to see several texts from his driver. “Feel better.”

 

“You too! I mean—goodbye to you too!”

 

* * *

 

 

He stewed in his thoughts during the car ride back to the Agreste mansion.

 

When he was alone in his room, he began pacing. Plagg hovered nearby, watching him.

 

“What’s got you so upset,” the kwami asked, “you look like you ate some bad cheese.”

 

Adrien ignored the opportunity to chastise Plagg’s cheese obsession. “Why would Marinette lie?”

 

The kwami sighed, “I don’t know. Why don’t you just ask her?”

 

“Ask her what? What would I even say? Hey Marinette, I know you’re lying about the rose because I’m Chat Noir and I definitely didn’t give it to you!”

 

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Who cares what you say? I need cheese!”

 

Adrien shook his head. “There’s only one way to ask her,” he said. “Plagg, _Transformez-moi_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this a few days ago, but I've been busy with midterms. 
> 
> These lovable idiots sure are dense. My whole idea for this story stemmed from the comedic conversation about the rose. It was initially going to be the reveal, but I figured it was too soon.  
> Adrien's slip up though. It's cannon that they are all really oblivious right? I mean, Marinette practically called Tom "Dad" while Ladybug. Its not that big of a stretch. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Once Adrien had gone, Marinette let out a long sigh as Tikki flew out from her hiding spot.

 

“That could have gone a lot worse.” The kwami offered.

 

“It could have gone a lot better.” Marinette buried her face in her hands. “Adrien visited me and I had his face plastered all over my room.”

 

“Well…” the kwami began, but she wasn’t done.

 

“I told him some obvious lie about Chat Noir that he didn’t believe!”

 

“It wasn’t _that_ obvious,” Tikki tried.

 

“I could have said it was from literally anyone else! Why did I tell the truth?” She sighed, lifting her arms and letting them fall at her sides in an exasperated manner.

 

“Well, you _are_ bad at improvising, remember—”

 

“Plus, he’s worried about Ladybug!”

 

“Everyone is!”

 

Marinette groaned and pulled a pillow over her face. “I’ve let the city down,” she said in a muffled voice. “I’ve let Adrien down.”

 

“No, Marinette, you haven’t let anyone down,” Tikki said, nestling atop Marinette’s head, patting it gently. “Even Ladybug gets hurt sometimes, and you said it yourself, Chat Noir can handle things until you’re well enough to transform.”

 

She groaned again, pulling the pillow off her face and flinging it to the floor. “If I could just find Chat Noir, he could bring the akuma to me, so I could purify it and get better. I’m so sick of being useless.”

 

“I know,” the kwami floated down to face her. “but have patience. Not everything can be solved with magic.”

 

“Thanks, Tikki.” Marinette smiled at her. “There’s some cookies left on that plate over there,” she said after petting the kwami gently on her head. Tikki made a noise of appreciation and zipped over to the desk where the half-eaten plate of cookies sat.

 

A tap on her window interrupted both kwami and girl. “Hide Tikki,” Marinette whispered before asking loudly, “Who is it?” Although she already knew. There was only one person who would be visiting her from her balcony.

 

A mischievous grin framed by shaggy blond hair appeared in the glass skylight. “Chat Noir?” she asked in mock surprise, although she _was_ curious as to why he was visiting her.

 

“Princess,” he said, voice muffled behind closed glass. “May I come in?”

 

“It should be unlocked,” she called. She watched as he flipped the latch and dropped onto her bed before sliding down the rail of her ladder to meet her at the chaise.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, rolling her eyes at his theatrics.

 

He hesitated slightly. “I’m, uh, checking on all the victims from the akuma attack last week. Since Ladybug isn’t around to heal them, I wanted to make sure they were all okay.”

 

Marinette felt a pang of affection for the alley cat, which was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. It was then she realized she had the perfect opportunity. She was just wishing to Tikki that she could find Chat Noir, and here he was, standing in front of her. She had to tell him what had happened. If she revealed herself as Ladybug, he could just bring her the akuma and she wouldn’t get too hurt trying to transform.

 

Then she remembered then what Tikki said about not solving everything with magic. This wasn’t how she wanted the reveal to go. She wasn’t ready.

 

“Chat Noir…” she began. He looked at her curiously with those glowing green eyes. What would he say if he knew? What would he think of her? She couldn’t do it. “Thank you.”

 

“Anytime, Princess,” he said with a bow.

 

“How are you doing without Ladybug?” she asked, although she could pretty much guess.

 

His face fell. “I’m fine. I’m just…worried.”

 

“Do you know where she is?” She knew the answer to this as well, and asking it felt almost cruel.

 

He looked away, voice catching in his throat. “No.”

 

She hated seeing him like this. She almost wished she could yell, _I’m right here Chat! I’m right here and I’m okay!_ She bit her lip as though to stop the confession from pouring out

 

“So,  _tail_ me,” he said, turning around suddenly with a big grin on his face, “how are _you_ feeling?”

 

Marinette chuckled despite herself but made sure he saw her eyes roll as not to encourage him. Of course, this only made him smile wider.

 

“That was bad, even for you,” she said.

 

He shrugged. “Sure, it wasn’t _purr_ fect, but you didn’t answer my question.”

 

“I mostly just feel cooped up,” she said. “My parents are so worried and won’t let me do anything on my own for fear I’ll strain my injuries. I didn’t realize almost dying came with such a limit on freedom.”

 

“I understand the feeling,” he said, sitting down on the floor beside the chaise with a sigh. “I’m only really free when I’m Chat Noir.”

 

Marinette studied him. He never really talked much about his civilian identity. After all, as Ladybug, she had never let him.

 

“Do I…” she paused, thinking about how she wanted to word her question. “Do I know you when you’re not Chat Noir?”

 

He was understandably taken aback. He looked as though he was searching for something, but for what she didn’t know. He squirmed where he was sitting.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “you don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.” Marinette berated herself. She wouldn’t ask such a thing of him as Ladybug, and she certainly would have been upset if he asked her. She just thought, maybe, it would make revealing herself easier. She still wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.

 

He relaxed a little, but there was clearly something on his mind. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” he started. He glanced around the room, eyes landing on the rose, unsure of how to bring it up.

 

Marinette’s gaze followed his, and she tensed upon seeing how intently he was staring at the rose. _He knew_. And with that thought, she resolved herself to explain everything to him.

 

“I may have gotten here a little before I made my presence known,” he began.

 

To Marinette, that confirmed it. He had definitely heard her talking to Tikki.

 

“I heard you tell A—that boy that I gave you this rose.” He turned to look at her. “Why did you lie?”

 

Marinette became flustered. So, he didn’t know. Her resolve wavered, but she thought of how much she wanted to get out of the braces constraining her legs, how much she wanted to heal all the injured civilians, how much she wanted to run across the roofs of Paris again. And how much she wanted him to know she was okay.

 

“Chaton,” she began, carefully using Ladybug’s nickname for him and studying his reaction. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. “I didn’t exactly lie.”

 

Now he looked really confused. “But I didn’t give you the rose.”

 

“No.”

 

He stared at her. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Chat—”

 

He just shook his head in frustration. “I have to go,” he said, turning to climb back up the ladder, “I have other people to check up on.”

 

“Chat wait!” Marinette called after him, wishing she could get up and grab his tail, pull him back and make him listen, but he was already gone out through her skylight.

 

Marinette leaned back in her chaise in a huff as Tikki flew from her hiding spot.

 

“I tried, Tikki,” she said.

 

The kwami looked at her sympathetically. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and feedback on the previous chapters. I'm not used to sharing my work on such a large scale and every comment means the world to me and makes my day so much better. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Over a hundred kudos! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story and an even bigger thanks to those who leave comments!
> 
> I know its been a bit, but here's a new chapter finally.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Chat Noir leapt from the roof top of the _Boulangerie Patisserie_ , vaulting across Paris’s skyline with no particular destination in mind. His teeth ground together and he was secretly hoping he could find some sort of criminal to take out his anger on.

 

What Marinette had said ran through his mind. He didn’t understand why she kept lying to him: first as Adrien and now as Chat Noir. Why was she making this so difficult? Why couldn’t she just tell him the truth? She was messing with him and he wasn’t in the mood.

 

First he failed Marinette and a dozen others by not arriving to the scene of the akuma attack in time, then his lady failed to arrive and hasn’t been seen in a week, and now Marinette was lying to him over something so small. Even so, he was fixated on it.

 

Why did she have that rose?

 

A flash of red caught his eye and he paused on his current rooftop. A man in a red hoodie zipped by on his bicycle. Chat Noir watched him go. He hadn’t realized he was looking for her. Of course he was. He looked for her everywhere.

 

Without much hope, he pulled out his staff and touched the green paw print, opening up the screen and calling her. It went to voicemail like it had every other time he tried.

 

“M’Lady, I could really use one of our _chat_ s right about now. Wherever you are, call me. Please.” He closed the screen with a sigh. He was pathetic. He just wished he knew where she was, that she was safe. His anger and frustration faded away and he felt empty—completely and utterly alone.

 

He stood, perched on a random rooftop, night surrounding him, and gazed out across the light-filled city he and Ladybug protected. Did one of these lights belong to her? If it did, why was she hiding from him? He needed a sign, any sign, that she was still alive.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, staring out into the darkness, but he was startled back into reality as his cat ears swiveled on his head, picking up some cry for help in the distance. Chat cursed under his breath. As much as he was ready for a fight earlier, now he really wasn’t in the mood. He just hoped it wasn’t an akuma. He wasn’t ready.

 

He extended his staff and leapt in the direction of the sound. It was a woman’s voice, sounding like she was pleading with someone. “Please,” he heard the woman say as he drew closer to the darkened alleyway the voice rose from, “please, I don’t have any money. I—”

 

Why the woman stopped talking, he wasn’t sure. He sped up and dropped into the alley in time to see three large men fleeing from it. He turned to see what they were running from and froze.

 

A disheveled woman stood with a glowing pink mask illuminating her features. “Yes, Hawkmoth,” she said, a dark transformation bubbling over her. She emerged, looking like a bronze statue, twin batons in either hand. Her eyes met Chat’s and a large grin spread across her metallic features. He cursed his bad luck.

 

“Hello, Chat Noir,” she said, “I am _La Protecteur._ You and Ladybug have failed to protect innocent people like me from criminals. Now I shall protect the people of Paris from you.”

 

Chat crouched and snarled. “Ladybug hasn’t failed anyone.”

 

 _La Protecteur_ pouted, stepping forward. “But where is she? She’s abandoned you and the city.”  Her face twisted into a snarl. “Give me your miraculous and you can join her in failure.”

 

Chat lunged, swiping at her feet with his staff. “Never,” he hissed.

 

Despite appearing to be made entirely of metal, the akuma jumped back easily, weightlessly, with a laugh sounding like the tinkling of bells. “You can’t defeat me by yourself. Where’s your partner, Chat Noir?”

 

He came at her again, this time his staff met hers with a clang. Her batons were crossed in front of her and Chat leaned in with his staff. As they struggled with their seemingly evenly matched weapons, Chat searched the woman for an item that might contain the akuma.

 

 _La Protecteur_ extended her arms and the batons with them, sending Chat backwards. He skidded to a halt with one clawed hand on the ground. He looked at her from afar, unable to see any item that stood out against her completely metal body. The batons were the only things not attached to her, but it couldn’t be them. She didn’t have them until after she was transformed.

 

It was then he noticed a silver gleam from her ears, the rings of metal different from the rest of her akumatized form. Earrings. Of course. Hawkmoth was taunting him.

 

As _La Protecteur_ took a step towards him, he lunged, sailing past her on the right and landing with ease behind her.

 

“You missed, Chat Noir,” she said, “I guess Ladybug was the brains and the brawn.” She swiped her baton behind her, twirling to face him, but he was too fast. He slid past her, grabbing a small cardboard box from a dumpster at the end of the alley as he did. She now stood facing the dumpster and the tall brick wall.

 

“Cataclysm!” he shouted, touching his hand, now pulsing with black energy, to the ground below her feet. The pavement crumbled, decaying before his eyes as _La Protecteur_ fell into the hole beneath her.

 

He yanked the hoops from her ears and crushed them with a swift stomp of his foot. A black butterfly wormed its way out of the broken earrings and Chat brought the cardboard box down atop it. He knew he didn’t have long before it phased through the material, but he risked a glance at the woman who was back to her normal self, looking thoroughly confused.

 

“What happened?” she muttered. Her eyes grew wide when she saw him. “Those men were following me, and I got so scared. I didn’t—did I?”

 

Chat gave her a sympathetic look. “You did. Its not your fault.”

 

The woman nodded slowly, but then her eyes grew wide. “Eek!” she squealed, pointing at the box Chat Noir held. He looked down, and sure enough, the akuma had phased through the carboard and was making its way back towards the woman.

 

Chat let out an agitated sigh and closed the box around the butterfly once more. “I’d love to stay and help you get home _mademoiselle_ ,” he said, “but it will be a real _cat_ astrophe if I don’t get this to a safe place quick.” Even he inwardly groaned at the pun. It just didn’t feel right.

 

The woman nodded fervently, and Chat gave her his signature two-finger salute as he vaulted up out of the alley way, closing the box once again around the escaped akuma and leapt from rooftop to rooftop.

 

* * *

 

Chat Noir jumped through the open window to his bedroom as his ring gave its final warning beep and his transformation dissolved in a flash of green. Plagg spun through the air twice before catching himself and hovering near Adrien.

 

“Argh,” he grumbled, “Why’d you have to stay transformed so long? I’m famished! I need camembert!” 

 

“In a moment,” Adrien said, readjusting his makeshift akuma prison for what must have been the tenth time. “I’ve got to lock this one up with the other.”

 

He ran to his desk and pulled open the drawer where the box that once contained his miraculous sat. As the akuma once again phased through cardboard, he quickly opened the miraculous box and closed it around the black butterfly.

 

He stared at the dark wooden box, lightly tracing the red etchings with his finger. “Are you sure this will hold them, Plagg?” he asked.

 

The kwami flitted over to him with a sigh. “I already said it would, didn’t I? There’s magic in that box meant to contain the miraculous. It’ll contain the akuma too. Now stop worrying and bring me cheese!”

 

“Alright, alright.” Adrien gave the kwami an exasperated half-smile. At least he was consistent. He gave the box one last glance before shutting it in the drawer. How many more akumas could it hold? If Ladybug didn’t show soon, he’d have to find some other way to contain them.

 

“Kid!” Plagg groaned, interrupting Adrien’s thoughts.

 

“Right,” he said, jumping up. “Cheese.” The kwami flew into his jacket pocket and he made his way to his bedroom door.

 

He opened it, expecting to see an empty hallway. Instead, he nearly ran right into his father’s rigid form.

 

“F-father?” He stumbled.

 

“Adrien,” Gabriel said in a cool voice. “Where have you been?”

 

Adrien paused. He considered lying and saying that he had been in his room the whole time, but it was likely his father had checked on him and found him missing. Gabriel raised an eyebrow while he watched his son formulate a response.

 

“I went for a walk,” he finally said.

 

“Without your bodyguard? At night?”

 

Adrien shifted uncomfortably, his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the silver ring on his right hand. “Yes.”

 

“Do you have any sense of self-preservation? You could have been mugged or kidnapped or killed.”

 

Adrien looked up to meet his father’s eyes and noticed that the man was staring intently at his ring. He moved his arm behind his back.

 

“Especially with Ladybug missing,” Gabriel added, his voice almost a growl. “I heard there was an akuma tonight. You could have been hurt.”

 

At this Adrien was confused. How would his father know about the akuma? There had been no other civilians around and no reports. He was positive not even the Ladyblog had reported it. He looked up at the man, whose face was blank, carefully observing his son. “I didn’t know,” Adrien finally said.  

 

“How did you get back into the house? How did you leave? Neither Nathalie nor your bodyguard saw you.”

 

“I snuck in and out,” Adrien said hurriedly. “Please don’t be mad at them.”

 

“I have already spoken with them,” Gabriel noted. Adrien bowed his head.

 

“I’m sorry, Father.”

 

“How do I make it clear to you that this behavior is unacceptable? Perhaps I have given you too much freedom.”

 

Adrien felt his heart plummet. “No Father, it won’t happen again,” he pleaded, knowing this was something he couldn’t promise.

 

His father just studied him. Adrien’s heartbeat seemed to grow louder with each moment of silence that passed.

 

“See that it does not,” Gabriel said finally, “Otherwise I may have to reconsider my decision to allow you to attend public school. Is that understood?”

 

Adrien nodded, his face grim. “Yes, Father.” He lowered his arms to his sides and noticed once again that his father’s gaze was fixated on his ring.

 

Gabriel gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

 

Adrien stood in the empty doorway for a while after his father was gone from sight.

 

He sighed at the rare sympathetic expression his kwami wore. “Come on Plagg, let’s get you some camembert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I hate writing Gabriel. He always speaks so formally. The conversation between him and Adrien conversation took me a while and I'm still not happy with it.
> 
> Also fight scenes are hard.
> 
> Gorzilla kind of ruined what I had planned for this story in the terms of Gabriel no longer suspecting Adrien. I don't believe he'd drop his suspicions so easily. Anyway Gabe is definitely still a dirt bag dad and he still thinks Adrien might be Chat Noir in this story.
> 
> Sorry it took me longer than usual to update. This first week back after spring break hit me hard. I had papers and assignments in every class throughout the week. My stress levels are up to a point where its like the break never happened. Writing this helped relax me a bit (although most of it was already written over my break).


	6. Chapter 6

For once when her alarm went off in the morning, Marinette was up immediately. It had been a little over a week and she was finally able to return to school. Alya met her at the bakery to walk with her as they agreed.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Marinette said. “I’m glad you’re here. But why exactly can’t I walk to school by myself?”

 

“Girl, are you serious?” Alya laughed. “Imagine you and your legendary clumsiness. Now add crutches to the mix.”

 

She scowled, the expression deepening when she felt her bag shake with the quiet laughter from her kwami. “Yeah, well,” she fumbled and Alya laughed again.

 

“You know I’m right,” she said, and Marinette stuck out her tongue. They crossed the road and approached the stairs to the school, where they hesitated. “Are you able to take on these stairs, girl?” Alya asked.

 

Marinette sighed, looking up at the steps looming over her. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but there seemed to be more than usual. “They really should install a ramp.”                                                           

 

“Add it to the list, class rep,” Alya said with a smile.

 

Marinette transferred her left crutch so that both were under her right arm and leaned towards the railing on her left. Gingerly, she stepped up with her left leg, the better one. She sucked in a breath, pushed down on the crutches, and lifted her right leg onto the step. She looked to Alya, who was observing her with a smirk set on her face.

 

“I’m glad we left early,” her friend said. “At this rate you’ll get there by lunch.”

 

Marinette grimaced and gave her a pointed look. “This isn’t as easy as I make it seem,” she said.

 

“Who said you made it seem easy?”

 

Marinette gave her another glare, and looked back down at her feet, moving up another two steps. She heard Alya give an exaggerated yawn and turned once more. “You’re not helping!” she snapped, her face growing red when she saw the two boys standing beside Alya, attempting to hide their smiles.

 

“Adri—ah!” Marinette screeched as she fell forward, palms slamming into the next set of stairs, thankfully, before her legs were also able to crash onto the ground. Her three friends ran to help her up.

 

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Adrien asked, picking up her crutches and offering an outstretched arm.

 

“Fine!” Marinette said in a rush, her cheeks blazing as she took the crutches from him. “I mean, I’m you, thank fine! I mean—I’m fine, your thanks! Wait, no, I—Alya?” She looked sheepishly at her friend who had a devilish grin.

 

“I think what Mme. Clumsy over here is trying to say,” Alya laughed, “is thank-you.”

 

Adrien smiled at the girls, his brows raised in confusion. He looked to Nino for help, but he only shrugged.

 

The three of them helped Marinette up the stairs without any more jokes or incident, for which she was immensely glad. When they weren’t looking, she risked a quick peek into her purse. She had fallen right on it when she tripped. _Are you okay_ , she mouthed at Tikki, who nodded before motioning for Marinette to close the bag.

 

She hobbled to the classroom, her friends in tow behind her. She had her head down, focusing on the careful steps with the crutches, listening to their distinct metallic noises clang against the ground with each step.

 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” a voice said, and Marinette didn’t have to look up to know who it belonged to. She slid into her seat, leaning the crutches against the desk, taking special care to balance them.

 

Finally, she sighed and looked up to face the blonde girl impatiently tapping her foot. “What do you want, Chloé?”

 

“So you finally decided to grace us with your presence?”

 

Marinette just looked at her. “My doctor decided that.”

 

Chloé looked bored, examining her nails. “Whatever,” she said, taking her seat beside Sabrina. Marinette stared after her. She didn’t understand that girl.

 

Alya nudged her. “What was that all about?”

 

“Who knows. Just Chloé being Chloé, I guess.”

 

Rose and Julika stopped at her desk on their way to their seats. “Ohh, can I sign your cast?” Rose squealed.

 

“Sure,” Marinette said, taking a sharpie from her bag. Soon, several of her classmates had signed, including Adrien. Chloé let out an annoyed huff from her seat.

 

Alya nudged her. “Looks like someone’s jealous of all the attention,” she whispered.

 

“If it means I didn’t have to have all these stupid braces and crutches and whatnot, she can have it,” she whispered back.

 

“Don’t worry, girl, you’ll be up and about in no time,” Alya said. “Once Ladybug is back. You’ll see.”

 

“Yeah,” Marinette said. “Ladybug.” She sank back into her chair. If only Alya knew. Her friend’s blind trust in her superheroine alter ego worried her sometimes. If this was how she acted when Marinette was hurt and Ladybug was missing, who’s to say how reckless she was chasing down akumas for her blog, assuming Ladybug will heal her up should anything happen.

 

“What about Ladybug?” Adrien had turned around and was looking at the two girls intently.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Alya shrugged. “I was just saying Marinette shouldn’t worry about her injuries too much because Ladybug will be back soon.”

 

Adrien’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”

 

“I don’t. But I’m positive she’ll be back.”

 

Marinette sat up, looking her friend square in the eyes. “You can’t be sure, though.”

 

“Yeah I can. Ladybug has never let us down. I believe in her. Don’t you?”

 

Marinette sputtered. Both Alya and Adrien were looking at her, even Nino had glanced up. She felt awful. They all had such absolute faith in her. In Ladybug. It was flattering, but it was also unsafe. She had already let them all down by disappearing like this. It could happen again. She could fail them in any number of ways. All the sacrifices they made during the Zombizou akuma flashed through her mind. What if she had failed then as well? She shuttered and realized they were all still waiting on her to answer. “I-I mean, it’s just, I can’t rely on Ladybug to get me through this,” she said. “It doesn’t help anyone to have blind faith in her. Beneath that mask she’s only human.”

 

Alya crossed her arms. “My faith isn’t blind, girl. I can see that Ladybug will always save the day.”

 

Adrien nodded, his face serious. “Alya is right, Marinette. I trust Ladybug. She would never let anyone down.”

 

A blush settled over Marinette’s cheeks. She squirmed in her seat. “It’s not that I don’t trust Ladybug. I just…don’t think we should put her up on a pedestal like that. It’s not realistic.”

 

Nino chuckled. “Dude, the girl has a magic yoyo. How is that realistic?”

 

“I-” she could see she wasn’t going to win this argument. “What about Chat Noir?” She asked, deciding that a change of subject was her only way out of this conversation. Although this new topic made her feel just as guilty, she knew the only way to get Alya to stop talking about a superhero was to bring up another.

 

Adrien’s gaze snapped right to her. “What _about_ Chat Noir?” he asked, there was a slight accusatory tone in his voice, “I thought you said he was just as good as Ladybug.”

 

Marinette felt a blush color her cheeks. “I did. I just meant we should be showing _him_ support right now. We don’t know where Ladybug is, but we do know that Chat is still out there.”

 

She didn’t understand the look that passed over Adrien’s face. It was full of awe and sadness and something else Marinette couldn’t place. It didn’t seem to matter, because it soon dawned on Marinette that he was still staring at her, and her brain promptly checked out as the rest of her face flooded with color. She felt Alya nudge her, a little too hard, in her side. Her indignant response and subsequent embarrassment were cut off as Chloé snorted.

 

“If you ask me, Chat Noir is incompetent. And now that Ladybug has decided she’s too good to be a superhero, he’s useless.”

 

The whole class was listening now, and they all turned to stare at the snooty girl who was still examining her nails and not meeting the gaze of anyone. Even Sabrina was staring at her, but Chloé seemed to care less.

 

Alya stood with her hands on her hips. “That’s alright,” she said, “because no one asked you.”

 

“I thought you were Ladybug’s number one fan,” Marinette asked, some unknown emotion tugging in her stomach. “What happened?” Sure, the level of devotion Chloé often showed her alter ego never ceased to annoy her, but it had been a constant. Something she was sure would always be there. Had she really screwed up so much that people, especially self-proclaimed fans, were beginning to think poorly of her?

 

Chloé finally looked up and met Marinette’s gaze head on. “I _was_. But that was before she decided to wreck some of Paris’s biggest tourist attractions, leaving Daddy to deal with the fallout.”

 

Marinette, eyes still locked with Chloé’s, was speechless. Luckily, Adrien came to her rescue.

 

“Come on Chlo,” he said, “You know that’s not fair. Hawkmoth is the one that made the Louvre and the Ponts des Arts vanish, not Ladybug. Besides Chat Noir was there to defeat the akuma. It could have been worse.”

 

Chloé’s harsh look turned to Adrien now. “Tell that to the angry tourists who had to cancel their trips and want refunds, and dozens of hurt Parisians and tourists alike demanding compensation. This is a disaster she left us with. Chat Noir can’t help, and Ladybug’s thrown us all out like last season’s shoes. Sorry Adri-kins, but you know I’m right.”

 

He shook his head. “You can’t seriously think that Ladybug’s abandoned us. After all she’s done. What if something happened to her and she’s unable to help?”

 

“Adrien’s right,” Alya added, “Right now, we need to show Ladybug support. That we still believe in her.”

 

Chloé turned away. “I don’t know what I believe.”

 

Marinette was stunned in her seat. She felt like crying. She knew she had let everyone down, but seeing the effect of her disappearance up close like this, written all over Chloé’s conflicted face, tore her up. Not even Alya’s optimism could help, because deep down, she knew Chloé was right. _Chloé_ was right. The city had come to depend on her, and this one failure had fallout. There were consequences to her disappearance. A small voice in the back of her head which sounded distinctly like Tikki told her she couldn’t have done anything. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

But being in the wrong place at the wrong time was costing her and the city. The mayor distrusted her again, and the police would soon follow. All that work to build trust with them and the people of Paris was blown away without a moment’s notice. And she couldn’t even make an appearance to deal with the fallout.

 

The classroom was somber when Mme. Bustier entered with her signature cheery grin. Most of the students were standing, having gotten involved in the conversation turned argument in some way, and they were all staring at Chloé, who had her arms crossed and was gazing intently out the window.

 

Mme. Bustier either didn’t notice the tension or was too determined to begin class in a pleasant manor. “Good morning class,” she chimed, “If you could all please take your seats and we’ll resume our lesson on—”

 

“Is that…trash?” Chloé interrupted, still staring out the window.

 

Marinette looked, catching a brief glance, as the rest of the class hurried over, Alya with her phone out and recording. Before her classmates blocked her line of sight, she saw what was indeed trash, raining down upon the street outside the school. In the middle of the downpour of garbage, stood a man in a grey jumpsuit, arms outstretched as the waste swirled around him.

 

Marinette felt her heart sink. Another akuma. She had to do something. This was a fight she could not be absent for. Not after what Chloé had said. She had to prove herself once more. As quietly as possible, she reached for the crutches resting against the bench and hoisted herself up, wincing slightly as the metal chimed upon the floor. Normally, she could silently, or as silently as possible, slip away, but with crutches that was nearly impossible. She moved like a sloth to take her next step, pushing oh-so carefully on the crutches for support, praying they wouldn’t make a sound. She got two more small steps in before the aluminum clang upon the ground gave her away. Mme. Bustier turned around at the sound.

 

“Marinette?” she asked, “Where are you going? There’s an akuma!”

 

“I um, well, I,” she fumbled, trying to think of an excuse. She couldn’t say bathroom. She had used that one too many times, especially during akuma attacks. _Stupid crutches_ , she thought. “My um, leg was—is! Hurting me. So I was going to go to the nurse?” she said in a sudden stroke of genius. At least the crutches provided her with an excuse if nothing else.

 

“Now?” Mme. Bustier asked. “Are you sure?”

 

Marinette nodded.

 

“Well at least have someone go with you. Alya?”

 

“I can’t Mme. Bustier, I gotta record this for the Ladyblog!” she protested, glancing at Marinette. “You understand, right girl?”

 

“It’s alright, I’ll be fine by myself.”

 

Before anyone could object, Marinette took off in past paced steps, through the door and down the hall, listening to the crutches echo a metallic tune behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while...Sorry.
> 
> I actually slipped on ice and sprained my knee around when I posted the last chapter and was on crutches for 3 weeks, so I feel some of Marinette's pain here. 
> 
> To be honest, this chapter was mostly delayed because I couldn't think of a decent akuma to have at the end here (and the akuma fight doesn't even happen until next chapter). That and last semester kicked my butt. And the summer has gone by so quickly, it's almost over.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think! Hopefully I won't make you wait another 4 months for the next chapter...


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as she was out of sight from the classroom, Marinette found a supply closet and struggled to balance her crutches while she opened the door and hobbled in. She stared at the crack of light where the door didn’t quite meet the floor, and listened as footsteps ran down the hall, the figure’s shadow disturbing the light. A moment later, Tikki zipped out of her purse.

 

“You can’t transform!” the kwami said, “It’s still too dangerous!”

 

“The akuma’s right here Tikki, I have to do something!”

 

Tikki sighed, “I know, but Chat Noir can handle it for now. You still need to heal.”

 

Marinette’s face scrunched up, her eyes full of worry. “I have to. I know Chat could probably do this without me, but I need to be there. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

Tikki flitted up so that she was at Marinette’s eye level, her expression grave. “You won’t have your supports or braces as Ladybug. You’ll strain your injuries. You’ll be stronger and won’t be in as much pain, so you won’t notice just how bad you’re straining them until you’re back as Marinette! The damage could be extensive, and it will take you even longer to heal!”

 

A large crash that sounded like something was thrown into the building caused Marinette to wince. “I can’t just sit here and let everyone down again. You heard Chloé. I need to show them all that Ladybug is still there for them. I need to show Chat Noir I’m okay.”

 

“There are other ways. Please. You won’t be any help to Chat in this state.”

 

With another crash from outside, Marinette took in the kwami’s pleading eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, Tikki,” she said. “I don’t have a choice.”

 

“Don’t—” the kwami cried, but it was too late. Marinette was already saying the words.

 

“Tikki, _Transformez-moi_!”

 

With a flash of red, Marinette felt strength returning to her. A sense of familiar security washed over her. She was stronger, more confident, and ready to help once more. She was Ladybug.

 

It was much like the first times she transformed; the slight worry only strengthened by the sudden absence of Tikki’s advice and chatter, the determination to prove herself only strengthened by her failure.

 

Even with her returned stability, Ladybug hesitated to let the crutches go. She looked down at her red and black polka-dotted suit and with a deep breath, gingerly took a step. Dull pain shot through her leg. With another step, she was pleasantly surprised that her legs didn’t give out. She briefly considered taking the crutches but figured they could be linked back to her identity as Marinette.

 

Instead, Ladybug limped out of the supply closet, deciding she would rely on her yoyo to help her move. She threw it, ears singing at the familiar zip of the string, and hooked onto the roof. With a tug, she launched through the air, giddy to feel the exhilaration as the wind whipped around her once more. She had missed this.

 

* * *

 

Adrien left the classroom not long after Marinette had dashed out in a frenzy of crutches to the nurse’s office and Alya had darted down the stairs to get a better angle on the attack. His heart had dropped when Chloé pointed out the akuma. Mme. Bustier had called for everyone to be calm and file out to their akuma emergency hiding locations. In the confusion of the exodus, he slipped out of the crowd and into an empty bathroom.

 

“Well this is a stinky situation,” Plagg said, floating out of Adrien’s jacket pocket.

 

“Not as stinky as your cheese,” Adrien replied, rolling his eyes. His joking expression faltered. “I can’t keep doing this without her, Plagg,” he whispered.

 

Plagg looked as though he wanted to reply with a snarky remark but bit it back. “As much as I hate to say it, kid, you’ll find a way.”

 

“You think so?” he asked. Each akuma was a fresh reminder that Ladybug was missing. Plagg’s rare encouragement didn’t change that, but maybe it would give him enough confidence to get through this fight.

 

Plagg grimaced. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Now transform already and get this over with so I can get my cheese.”

 

“Thanks,” Adrien smiled, looking closely at his kwami’s face, “Plagg, _Transformez-moi_!”

 

After a flash of green, Chat Noir bounded out of the bathroom and out the front doors of the school. The street was covered in litter. It was like all of Paris had been transformed into a giant dumpster. The akuma, who was dressed in a grey custodial jumpsuit with a purple cape for…flair, was hovering a couple feet off the ground with, what could only be described as a trash storm, swirling around him.

 

“I am the Garbage Man,” the akuma was shouting to the terrified citizens below him who sought to find some cover. “None of you respect me! None of appreciate me! You litter, you knock over trash bins, you mock! Now you’ll live in the waste you shove off unto me!”

 

Chat Noir ran into Garbage Man’s line of sight. “Hey, smelly!” he yelled, drawing the akuma’s attention. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you capes are _trashy_?”

 

As Garbage Man’s eyes locked onto Chat Noir, a glowing purple mask fell over his face. “Ah, Chat Noir,” he said a moment later. “You must be feeling right at home, little alley cat. Care to give me your Miraculous?”

 

Chat leaned against his extended staff casually and gave the akuma a smile. “Uh, no, I don’t think I will,” he said.

 

“Shame,” said the Garbage Man, raising an arm to point towards a nearby dumpster, then moving to direct it towards Chat Noir.

 

The dumpster came flying at full force, and Chat Noir leapt into the air and twisted to dodge it. It continued its trajectory and slammed into the school building behind him. Chat winced. What Chloé had said about the damage left by the Photographer still stuck with him. There would be no Ladybug repair the damage from this fight. One look at the trash-laden streets told him the aftermath of this akuma would not be pretty.

 

He didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the Garbage Man shot a stream of rubbish at him which he easily dodged. Running towards the akumatized man, Chat’s eyes darted over his appearance, searching for the corrupted object. He briefly considered it could be the cape but decided that was too obvious.

 

Garbage Man sent another stream of trash at him and he flipped back to avoid it, landing lightly on his feet. “This is a _waste_ of my time,” Chat Noir yelled up at the man, who only scowled as the glowing mask once again appeared over his face. He began to descend to the ground, and Chat got a better look at him. That’s when he saw it. Affixed to the front of the man’s jumpsuit was a dark purple patch, presumably once a nametag of sorts. Chat Noir smiled with relief, perhaps he could end this fight soon.

 

A jet of garbage slammed into him from the side, catching him off guard and throwing him against the brick of the school. He cursed himself for getting distracted as his body ached with pain. He got his bearings just in time to see another dumpster soaring through the air towards him. He extended his staff and pushed himself away, just barely dodging it, before it smashed into the wall where he had been standing.

 

He had to get to high ground. Maybe then he could leap at the Garbage Man and destroy the patch with his cataclysm. Grabbing hold of his staff, he extended it further, stepping onto the rooftop once at the proper height and condensing it once more.

 

Chat Noir crouched on the roof’s edge, working out his plan of action while the Garbage Man turned away, seeming to have lost interest in him or thought him crushed by the dumpster. Instead, he seemed in favor of shooting trash at random terrified civilians who had not yet fled the scene. Chat studied his movements, searching for something that could let him get close enough to the man to break the object where the akuma was hiding.

 

His cat ears swiveled on his head. A sound. The most beautiful sound. The zip of Ladybug’s yoyo. Impossible. And yet…

 

Chat turned to his left, looking towards the source of the noise. Sure enough, hooked on the frieze, was the red and black spotted yoyo, and behind it, swinging through the air, was Ladybug.

 

Ladybug.

 

His heart sung. Relief seeped through his entire being. A smile much too small to convey his true happiness spread across his face. She had never looked so beautiful.

 

All too caught up in seeing her, finally seeing her, after all this time, he almost didn’t notice how she stumbled in her landing. Almost.

 

He had stood upon seeing her, ready to sweep her up in a bone crushing hug and tell her to never scare him like that again, and let her know just how much he had missed her, and did she know how worried he’d been, but instead he froze. Something was wrong. All the relief he had felt moments ago shattered. He watched as she struggled to stand properly.

 

“My Lady,” he said, breaking free from his stupor and rushing to her side, “Are you okay?”

 

Her eyes met his and she winced. “Not really,” she said, “My kwami said it was too dangerous to transform, but,” she sighed and shifted, taking a few steps forward so she could observe the scene. Chat instinctively moved to offer her an arm, which she gripped tightly and leaned her weight into. “Thanks,” she muttered.

 

“What happened?” Chat Noir managed to ask, distracted by her movements which seemed to require a great deal of effort.

 

“We can talk later,” Ladybug said, her gaze determined as she looked at the Garbage Man. “Right now, we have an akuma to deal with.”

 

“Right,” Chat said, finally tearing his eyes off her, and looking back down to the street below. “I’ll take the lead on this one, My Lady.”

 

“Thank you, Chat” she said, her voice soft. “Any idea where the akuma is hiding?”

 

“Patch on his jumpsuit.”

 

“Good kitty.”

 

Chat’s heart sang. He had to remind himself to stay focused. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

 

“We finish this quickly,” she said, before throwing her yo-yo into the air and shouting, “Lucky Charm!” Into her hands fell a red and black spotted boomerang.

 

Chat Noir watched as she puzzled over the object and looked around the area. Her forehead scrunched up in concentration and he was mesmerized. He had missed her more than he realized, more than he thought was possible, and all at once, every little thing he loved about her came rushing forward. He was startled from his thoughts when he realized she was looking at him now.

 

“I need you to distract him,” Ladybug said, “Get him in range, then swipe the patch.”

 

Chat gave her his signature two-fingered salute. “Aye-aye my Lady,” he said before jumping from the roof, using his staff to propeller down. “Hey tall, dark, and trashy!” he yelled, landing lightly on his feet in front of the school.

 

The Garbage Man turned face him, the purple mask once again lit up over his face. “Ready for round two, Chat Noir?” he asked as the mask faded. He raised an arm and a stream of garbage once again shot at Chat Noir.

 

The trash whizzed by and landed in a smelly heap behind him as Chat easily ducked. “I’m getting a _litter_ bit tired of this,” Chat yelled as he rushed the Garbage Man, who only laughed as he dodged the side jab Chat had sent.

 

“I’m sure you are,” the Garbage Man said, summoning more trash as Chat Noir attempted to engage him in hand-to-hand combat. “Especially since your precious Ladybug has abandoned you.”

 

Chat only smirked, and the Garbage Man’s face grew puzzled. He wasn’t confused for long, however, as a voice rang out above them.

 

“Who said I abandoned anyone?” Ladybug called, standing proud and tall on the rooftop. Both Chat Noir’s and the Garbage Man’s gazes snapped to her.

 

“Ladybug,” the akuma spat, his face illuminated by the glowing mask once again.

 

She took a step forward, stumbling slightly. The action was not missed by Hawkmoth, as the Garbage Man’s eyes narrowed. Chat found himself frozen, in both awe and fear. Awe in her beauty and perfect, everything he’d missed since she had failed to show up at the akuma fight last week. Fear for her safety if Hawkmoth realized she was injured.

 

He was brought back to the current fight as a red and black object sped by him.

 

“You’ve lost you edge, Ladybug,” Hawkmoth sneered through the Garbage Man, “You missed.”

 

“It’s a boomerang,” Ladybug said simply as the projectile slammed into the Garbage Man’s head from behind, sending him staggering forward. “Now, Chat!” she yelled.

 

“I’ll take that,” Chat Noir said as he leapt towards the akumatized man and ripped the patch from the front of his jumpsuit. He flipped backwards and extended his staff so that he landed on the rooftop beside Ladybug. He held the patch out to her. “Would you like to do the honors Bug-a-boo?”

 

He expected her to chastise him for the nickname, but instead he was met only with her smile. “Why thank you, Chaton,” she said, taking the akumatized object and tearing it in half. The akuma fluttered out and she swung her yo-yo. “Time to de-evilize!” The yo-yo split in half revealing a white light which scooped up the akuma as the yo-yo snapped shut. “Gotcha,” Ladybug said. The yo-yo opened once more, and a pure white butterfly flew out. She wished it goodbye and threw the boomerang up into the air with a cry of “Miraculous Ladybug!” She and Chat watched as the swarm of little pink bugs swept over everything, cleaning up the trash-laden streets.

 

Suddenly her earrings beeped, and she swayed before slumping to the ground. “Ladybug!” Chat called out, catching her in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

 

“My transformation is failing,” she said, her teeth clenched in pain, “My kwami warned me. I’m beginning to feel the full force of my injuries again.”

 

“What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

 

She grimaced. “I was injured. My civilian self can’t even _walk_ right now.” Her earrings beeped again, she was down to only one spot now. Chat opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “Listen, Chat, there isn’t much time. Do you still have the Photographer’s akuma?”

 

He nodded, “Yes, and one more.”

 

Her eyes widened slightly before she continued. “Bring them back here. I’ll recharge my kwami while you’re gone.”

 

“But—” he wanted to make sure she was alright. He couldn’t just leave her here like this, but she cut him off.

 

“ _Go_!”

 

Without a second glance he turned and vaulted away toward the Agreste Manor.

 

* * *

 

Ladybug watched as Chat Noir leapt from rooftop to rooftop as her miraculous gave a final beep and her transformation dissolved in a flash of pink. All at once pain swelled in her legs and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She had ducked down behind the frieze so she was out of sight, but she still didn’t want anyone to know she was up here.

 

“Marinette,” called the tiny voice of her kwami, who was laying on the roof beside her. Marinette moved to reach into her purse for a cookie, but the bag jostled against the side of her leg and it was as though it was on fire. She slowly pulled the cookie out and passed it to Tikki who took it with slight hesitation.

 

The two sat there for a minute in silence while Tikki nibbled on the cookie and Marinette tried to ignore the pulsing pain radiating from her legs. “You were right, Tikki,” Marinette said finally. “Everything is so much worse.”

 

Her kwami just gave her a sad smile. “You did what you had to.” Marinette bit her lip. She was immensely glad Tikki wasn’t one to say, ‘I told you so.’ She didn’t think she could have handled that on top of everything.

 

“At least Chat Noir will be back soon,” she said, “Then we can cleanse the akumas and put everything back to normal.”

 

“Hopefully,” Tikki said in a voice so quiet, Marinette wasn’t sure she heard her.

 

Marinette looked down at her kwami. “What do you—”

 

She was cut off as Tikki suddenly squeaked and dove into her purse to hide. Marinette ignored the flare up of pain, too overwhelmed by concern. Tikki only did that when someone was nearby. Marinette peaked into her purse and was meet by her kwami’s wide fearful eyes.

 

Marinette’s heart raced. Someone was here. The only person who knew she was up here was Chat Noir. But Hawkmoth had seen the battle. He had seen her up here and he had seen her stumble. A feeling of dread bubbled in her stomach. She had to move.

 

She tried to push up and stand but was crippled by a white-hot flash of pain. She silently wished for her crutches or something. No, the crutches would give her away. It was better this way.

 

The sound of footsteps nearby struck her from her thoughts, and Marinette began to drag herself across the roof. Every muscle in her face clenched to keep from crying out as the worst pain she had ever felt began to consume her. She slumped behind the air vent on the rooftop and tried to look around for the intruder. Was it another akuma come to fetch her and bring her back to Hawkmoth, or was it Hawkmoth himself? The very thought chilled her. Either way, she couldn’t let him find Marinette up on the roof when he was expecting Ladybug. She had to keep her identity intact.

 

She peered into her bag again, and as though reading her thoughts, she saw Tikki shaking her head. “I have to,” Marinette whispered as quietly as possible. “Tikki, _Transformez-moi_!”

 

She barely noticed the transformation this time. The pain was still there, holding her down. The footsteps grew louder and Ladybug began to panic. Whoever it was would find her. She didn’t know when Chat would be back. She didn’t have enough strength to fight. She was out of options.

 

“Lucky Charm,” she whispered.

 

For once she knew exactly what to do with the red and black object that fell into her hands. She fiddled with it briefly before placing it on the ground behind her. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her skull as something hit her from behind. The last thing she saw was purple boots as her world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet! And it's not four months late!  
> I almost broke this chapter up, but I think it's better this way.  
> Hopefully you enjoyed this one. The plot is starting to pick up now.
> 
> Thank you all so much for getting this story to well over 200 kudos. Please comment and give me some feedback. I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> My semester starts tomorrow and I'm taking 21 credits again, so we'll see how often I can update. I'll try not to take another four month hiatus.


	8. Chapter 8

Chat Noir rushed home, vaulting through Paris faster than he ever had before. His heart was filled with so much joy. After all that worrying and searching, he had his Lady back. And she was okay. Well, she wasn’t entirely okay, but as long as he got back to her quickly, she could purify the akumas, do her miraculous cure, and she would be better than ever. With that thought in mind, he pushed further until he was on the roof of the Agreste manor.

 

He steadily climbed down the front of the house as he had so many times before, sliding in through the window he always left ajar, and landing lightly on the floor. Recalling his transformation, he ran over to his desk and slid open the drawer, slipping the miraculous box containing the akumas into his pocket.

 

Adrien turned and was about to summon Plagg, when he found himself face to face with the kwami. “Cheese,” Plagg demanded in a long whine.

 

“Now?” Adrien asked, “I have to get these akumas back to Ladybug.”

 

“Ladybug has to feed her kwami too, you know.”

 

Adrien’s hand brushed the hexagon box in his pocket. “But—”

 

Plagg just looked annoyed. “You think you’d know how this works by now. If you wanna transform, you have to give me cheese.”

 

“I didn’t even use Cataclysm,” Adrien argued, keeping his voice low. He wasn’t supposed to be home after all.

 

“I’m still tired. So quit whining and get a move on. I thought you were in a hurry.”

 

“Right,” Adrien said, holding open his jacket for Plagg to hide in.

 

He edged open his bedroom door, and quietly slipped out. He tip-toed through the hallway and down the stairs, keeping an eye out for the Gorilla. He didn’t want to explain why he wasn’t at school. Sure, there had been an akuma attack, but those only sometimes resulted in students being sent home. He paused for a moment. He was supposed to be in class. They would notice he was gone. A nudge from Plagg shook him from his momentary panic. He could deal with that later. Right now, he had to worry about Ladybug.

 

Adrien made his way to the kitchens, passing as silently as he could in front of his father’s study.

 

“Ladybug is still there. She can’t have gone far.”

 

Adrien froze upon hearing the voice. Why was his father talking about Ladybug? Plagg drifted out of his jacket.

 

“Cheese, remember?” he said. “Why are you just standing there?”

 

“Shh!” Adrien hushed, barely above a whisper, as he grabbed his kwami out of the air and strained to listen to what his father was saying.

 

“—the akuma. She’s defenseless right now.”

 

Adrien tried to make sense of what he was hearing. His father sounded almost…happy. But that couldn’t be right. It didn’t make any sense. He shook his head. No matter what the tone of the words were, they were still true. He had to get back to Ladybug quickly. He began to move when his father’s voice rang out again.

 

“Find her, now!”

 

The words chilled him. He realized it wasn’t just the words, it was the voice. It didn’t sound like his father, yet in his heart he knew it was. He flattened himself against the wall. Adrien feared the door would fly open and his father would storm out and discover him, but nothing happened. The door stayed closed. His breathing quickened. He didn’t understand. He wasn’t able to process what he had just heard. There was something familiar about that voice, and not just that it belonged to his father. It was something he couldn’t place.

 

He didn’t realize Plagg was staring at him once more. “Worry about it later, kid,” the kwami said, “You’ve got other things to worry about right now.”

 

Adrien nodded and hurried the rest of the way to the kitchen. Peeking his head through the door first to make sure one of the chefs weren’t hanging about, he dashed inside. No sooner had he come to a stop in front of the massive fridge had Plagg zipped out from his jacket once more and phased through the large metal door.

 

Adrien opened the door after him to see he had already devoured an entire small wheel of camembert. “Plagg, you pig,” he quipped, and before the kwami could respond, he held out his hand with his ring and said, “Plagg, _Transformez-moi_!”

 

Now Chat Noir, he stealthily raced back through the house to his room, closing the door behind him, and vaulting through the open window.

 

He flew over the rooftops; as soon as he landed on one roof, he vaulted to the next. Something in his heart told him he had to hurry; there wasn’t much time.

 

He landed on the roof of the school with a soft thud. There was no sign of Ladybug.

 

He walked over to where he had left her and found only cookie crumbs and a half-eaten cookie. Food for her kwami? So where was she?

 

“LB!” he called, walking across the roof. “My Lady, I’m back!” He walked to the large air vent. “Where are—” Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a red and black polka-dotted item which he immediately recognized as a lucky charm. “—you,” he finished lamely, crouching down to pick the device up. It was small and rectangular. Turning it over in his hands, he saw there was a small screen on front with a digital map on it. And on that map was a small glowing dot.

 

“My Lady, you’re a genius,” he smiled to himself, before the implications of the device weighed upon him. She wouldn’t need to give him a tracking device if she knew where she was going, and in the state she was in, he doubted she could have gotten very far. His stomach jerked as the realization hit him. She was taken. Hawkmoth.

 

Chat Noir felt like throwing up. He should have been quicker. He shouldn’t have left her here alone in the first place. “Stupid!” he yelled, kicking the air vent. How could he have been so stupid? He had been so happy to have her back, he hadn’t even stopped to think. And now he was losing her all over again.

 

No. He wasn’t going to lose her, because she had left him a way to find her. Because she had actually planned ahead. He had to focus. Ladybug would tell him to focus.

 

He examined the map on the screen, letting the pixelated lines become the roads he was so familiar with. It took him a moment to realize just _how_ familiar they were. Because the building where the glowing dot rested on was the Agreste manor. His house. Hawkmoth had taken Ladybug to his house. Did Hawkmoth know who he was? Had he come for him too? Was it a trap?

 

Chat Noir began to pace the rooftop, trying to make sense of it. Because it didn’t make sense. He thought back to what he had overheard his father say earlier. Lots of things today weren’t making sense.

 

He needed a plan. If Hawkmoth really had taken Ladybug to his house, then he knew who Chat was. It also meant it was likely that an ambush was waiting for him when he would try to rescue Ladybug.

 

Or, a small voice nagged from the back of his mind, there’s another reason they’re at the Agreste mansion. Something was off, and he couldn’t place it. The whole situation just felt… _wrong_.  

 

Of course, that could be due to the fact that his partner, the girl he’s in love with, had been missing for a week, and when they finally reunited she was kidnapped by their archenemy.

 

One thing was certain: he had to rescue her. With determination locked on his face, he vaulted back off the rooftop the way he came. He reached the mansion in record time.

 

He paused a rooftop away, unsure how to approach his rescue. Should he crash in as Chat Noir and demand to know where Ladybug was? Or should he lay low, arrive as Adrien and scope out the place? It all depended on whether or not Hawkmoth actually knew who he was. Because then it might not matter how he arrived. Something in his gut told him Hawkmoth was still in the dark about his identity. After all, they had been careful. And Ladybug would want him to play it safe. No unnecessary risks.

 

He dropped down to the alley on the far side of the building he had landed on. De-transforming, Plagg flew out of his ring and looked at him seriously.

 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, kid,” the kwami said.

 

Adrien sighed and held open his jacket for him. “Me too, Plagg.”

 

He glanced down at the tracking device just to double check the location. Sure enough, the glowing dot confirmed it. Ladybug was in the building in front of him. He pocketed the device and crossed the street, pushing through the front gate. He thanked himself silently for forgetting to close it all the way this morning. He knew he should be more concerned with the house’s security, but it was the little victories that gave him some source of happiness. He smiled at the small act of rebellion. Today it was paying off.

 

He walked at a speedy pace through the front courtyard and opened the front door as quietly as he could, closing it gently behind him. Standing in the atrium, he pulled out the tracking device once more. He zoomed in on the screen to get a more accurate read on Ladybug’s location in the house. It showed she was somewhere to his left. His father’s study? He approached the door and strained to hear inside. If Hawkmoth had Ladybug in there, surely he would hear them, right?

 

It was strangely silent however. And for that matter, where was his father and Nathalie. His father had been in his study not too long ago. Adrien had heard him talking. Had Hawkmoth done something to them? He took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever he might find inside, and reached for the door.

 

Before he could open it, a very frazzled looking Nathalie walked out. Adrien froze. Her eyes fell upon him and her shock mirrored his. In a fluid motion, she straightened herself and her face fell back into the impassive mask he was so used to.

 

“Adrien,” she said, “What are you doing home?”

 

“There was an akuma attack today at school,” he said, easily forming the excuse. It _was_ the truth at least.

 

“I wasn’t aware they sent the students home.”

 

He smiled and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Huh,” he said, “I wonder why they didn’t tell you.” Before Nathalie could respond, he leaned forward to try to catch a glance at the inside of his father’s study. “Is father in there?” he asked, “I want to speak with him.”

 

Nathalie closed the door. “Your father is very busy at the moment, Adrien.”

 

“I just need a quick word,” he begged. He needed to get into that room. Why was Nathalie guarding it? Had Hawkmoth threatened her or his father? Was that why she was so disheveled when she normally was the pinnacle of professionalism?

 

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she said, turning him away from the door and leading him towards the stairs. “Since you were meant to have piano lessons after school, why don’t you practice for a while.”

 

“Alright,” Adrien said, hanging his head in mock defeat and trudging up the stairs. He paused long enough to look inside the study as Nathalie retreated inside. Aside from Nathalie, it was empty.

 

So where was Ladybug?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! Long weekend, new chapter! 
> 
> There's still somewhat of a cliff hanger here sine the one from last chapter wasn't really resolved, but I promise next chapter will have Marinette and all the villain monologuing you could want. If the timing of some of the events seems a little off here, I promise it will be explained in the next chapter as well. 
> 
> As always let me know what you thought! I was overwhelmed by the amount of comments on the last chapter. Each one filled me with a little joy, even if it was just cursing me for hurting Marinette or the cliff hanger! (Although, she's been hurt this whole time, you knew what you were getting into lol)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter gets a little dark.

There was a ringing in her head when Marinette awoke. She was lying on the floor. Squinting, she saw the room was dark, almost too dark to see. The floor was shadowy, and she was near a wall. Without getting up, she moved her hands across the wall and felt it curve, metal bolts cold against her touch. Her hands found a metal beam nearby that went up it. Marinette pushed herself up and grasped the beam, attempting to find some purchase to help her stand. As soon as her head was raised, however, she felt a pounding in her skull.

 

“I would suggest not getting up, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” a voice rang out, “You do have a bit of a concussion after all.”

 

Marinette tried to think, but her head was throbbing. She turned to look at the masked man before her, blinking so her eyes adjusted to the low light. Towering over her was Hawkmoth. Then she realized. Dupain-Cheng. He said Dupain-Cheng. She had been Ladybug. Her hands flew to her earlobes and found them empty. Her miraculous.

 

“I told you, you would give me your miraculous, Ladybug,” Hawkmoth sneered.

 

Marinette took deep, steadying breaths. “What do you want with them?” she finally asked. Everything hurt. Thinking hurt.

 

Hawkmoth just looked at her, his purple mask hiding anything his face might betray. “If you think I am going to start monologuing just because I have you captured, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, you are mistaken.” He paced the room, disturbing the hundreds of pearly white butterflies Marinette just noticed were resting on the floor all around her. “No, I believe you are going to tell me something,” he said.

 

Marinette steadied herself against the wall, looking at the man with defiant eyes. “I don’t know Chat Noir’s identity,” she said, “And even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

 

To her surprise, the man laughed, a low humorless laugh. “Chat Noir’s identity is not the problem.”

 

Marinette’s heart sank. Hawkmoth knew who Chat was. She had to warn him, but without her miraculous there was no way to contact him. Her miraculous. It began to set in just how truly _alone_ she felt without it; helpless even. No, she couldn’t think like that. She had left Chat a way to find her. He would help her get it back and together they would defeat Hawkmoth. But she was in no condition to fight. And if Chat came now, he would see her, the real her, without the mask. She wasn’t ready for that.

 

The seconds ticked by as Hawkmoth watched the array of emotions pass over her face with a smug glee. She didn’t hear him as he spoke again, too wrapped up in her own thoughts as she was. The glaring lack of weight on her earlobes giving way to a rising panic.

 

A pain across her cheek brought her back to the present and she stared wide eyed at the cane that had just hit her.

 

“I asked you a question,” Hawkmoth glared. Marinette just continued to stare at him, shock evident on her face. Hawkmoth’s expression softened slightly. “I know you think I am evil, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. I assure you I am not. I am just a man looking out for my family.”

 

Marinette studied him, still reeling from her previous shock, still trying to think through the throbbing in her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed herself up so she was sitting, leaning back against the rounded metal wall. Family. “You lost someone,” she said finally, opening her eyes to level her gaze at the man in front of her. The grieving supervillain whose emotions betrayed him for a fraction of a second. But all too soon that steeled look returned to his masked features and Marinette’s panic began to return.

 

“If you’re trying to use the Miraculous to bring them back, you have to know there is a cost,” she pleaded. She had to reach the emotions hidden away, the man she saw for just a moment. Maybe, if she reached that person, the one uncorrupted by loss, maybe she could get out of this and end the reign of Hawkmoth in the process. “If you use the wish to bring them back to life, someone will die in their place,” she continued.

 

Hawkmoth’s face did not betray him again. Marinette couldn’t tell if this was news to him or not. He just stared at her.

 

And then, he turned away. “People die all the time.”

 

Marinette’s heart sank, and hope fluttered away. She felt nauseous and it wasn’t just from the creeping vertigo provided by the concussion. Still, she steadied herself. Deep breaths. She grabbed the beam near her and pulled herself into a standing position, ignoring the screaming beat of her heart in her head, the sharp jolts in her protesting legs, and the room swimming around her. She stood, leaning against the beam, at as full a height as she was able. “This person you’re trying to save, would they want someone to die in their place? Would they forgive you for all you’ve done?”

 

It happened in the span of a second. Hawkmoth whirled around to face her and suddenly she was back on the ground, a new pain bruising her face, nausea rising to a peak as the floor seemed to shift and sway, forcing her eyes shut once more.

 

“Do not presume to know anything about me, _Ladybug_ ,” The last word was almost a sneer, as if mocking her heroic nature. “I will return and when I do you _will_ answer my questions.”

 

Marinette heard footsteps echo around the chamber and some mechanical whirring. The loud thunk of a metal door left her in silence, with only the quiet fluttering of wings to keep her company, as her body began to shake with sobs.

 

 

* * *

 

Adrien paced his room, staring at the little red dot on the screen of the tracking device produced by Ladybug’s lucky charm. She was so close, he could feel it, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out _where_. He thought he knew the mansion front and back, yet the dot showed Ladybug was in his father’s clearly empty office. Was there a basement he didn’t know about? An attic? And even if there was, why was she _there_?

 

“Will you quit your pacing, you’re giving me anxiety just by looking at you,” Plagg droned from his lounging spot on Adrien’s bed.

 

“How can you be so calm about this?” Adrien demanded, “Ladybug was kidnapped!”

 

“She’s Ladybug,” the kwami replied as though it were the most obvious answer.

 

“Plagg!”

 

The kwami flitted over and hovered at eye level, inches from Adrien’s face. “Look, kid, I’m concerned, but worrying isn’t going to help her. Pacing certainly isn’t.”

 

“You’re right,” Adrien sighed, “If only I could find her.”

 

“You’re not going to find her by pacing.”

 

Another sigh. “Plagg, _Transformez-moi_!”

 

Chat Noir leapt through his bedroom window and used his staff to land on the ground below. Keeping close to the wall, he edged around the house watching on the tiny screen as he neared the red dot.

 

He was right next to it now, staring up at the wall that must belong to his father’s office. Slowly, his gaze drifted down, but he saw no indication of any basement. He extended his staff and landed on the curved roof on the side of the house above the study. He glanced back down at the tracker. She enough, the red dot was right next to him. Treading carefully on the metal slope, he walked around to the back of the house, to look at the other side of the roof.

 

There, seemingly glaring at him, was something that definitely didn’t belong: a large ornate circular window, lined with metal work in the design of a butterfly. That alone wasn’t odd. That same design, after all, graced many of his father’s creations. What was wrong, was the thick steel barring the window, rendering it useless for its purpose.

 

Chat Noir couldn’t recall ever seeing it before. Why was this here? What purpose could it possibly serve? And why was Ladybug in the room behind it?

 

He hesitated for just a moment before smashing his staff into the window, shattering the glass, and yelling, “Cataclysm!” His hand pulsed with dark energy and he slammed it down on the steel behind the glass. The metal rusted and crumbled, and he jumped through the opening, landing lightly in the center of the round room.

 

Chat froze momentarily, seeing the tiny white butterflies fluttering all around him, disturbed by his sudden appearance. A secret room in the Agreste Mansion. Butterflies. Chat felt his stomach drop. His mind shouting that his father had been akumatized. He couldn’t be Hawkmoth, could he?

 

Chat’s stomach dropped even further as he scanned the room and saw a hunched-over figure cowering across the room. “Ladybug?” He asked tentatively, lowering himself into a crouch as he crept to cross the distance between them.

 

The girl in front of him shuttered slightly, her dark hair falling messily on the shoulders of her blazer. “Chat,” a small voice rang out. “I- don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

 

A pang shot through his heart. She was hurt. Bad. Her voice wavered and held none of that Ladybug confidence he had grown to love. Dutifully he closed his eyes and shifted closer. “My Lady,” he said, his voice low and gentle, “I’m going to get you out of here.”

 

She shook again, silent sobs racking her body. “He took it,” she whispered, “He took my miraculous.”

 

Chat’s body was on autopilot. With slow, careful movements, he scooped her up into his arms. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he repeated. He didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t prepared for a situation like this. They had been prepared for lots of scenarios, but not this. Never this.

 

The girl in his arms, Ladybug, flinched as he held her. “Don’t look,” she said again. Her voice was so very small.

 

“My eyes are closed,” he replied, turning to leap back out the way he came, relying on his other instincts to get him onto the roof. Once there, he opened his eyes, decidedly not looking down at the girl in his arms, honoring his lady’s wishes. He scanned the Paris skyline, shifting his weight and turning once he found what he was looking for. “I’m going to take you to the hospital,” he said, bounding to the next rooftop.

 

“No,” Ladybug said, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

 

“You’re hurt,” Chat said, “You need help.”

 

She didn’t protest again and was silent as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop. Finally, he came upon the roof of the hospital.

 

Before descending, Chat Noir paused. He needed to be able to find Ladybug again and that would be impossible without her miraculous. _Forgive me, my Lady,_ he thought and glanced down at the girl in his arms.

 

There, bruised and battered, but unmistakable all the same, was the face of his classmate. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And his world fell apart. His heart shattered.

 

And everything made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A partial reveal! Not ideal in any way, shape, or form, but still: Adrien knows. 
> 
> This got a lot darker than I had originally intended. I wanted to give Gabe some redeeming moments (don't get me wrong, he is still a terrible person), but things kind of spiraled. Marinette was originally only supposed to have a concussion from this encounter. Oops. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things are getting angst-y now. I would love to hear what you thought and any feedback you may have. I can't believe this story has reached the 300 kudos mark. I've never written fanfiction before and was honestly not expecting such a positive response. I've always been hesitant to share my writing, and this is such a large scale, much bigger than workshopping in class. I want to thank each and every one of you for reading, even if you don't leave comments or kudos. So, thank you.
> 
> (Also, I know I said I'd explain the slightly wonky time frame from the previous chapter, but it seems Hawkmoth didn't want to monologue -- it's not in his character anyway. Don't worry, there will still be some explanation as to what happened when Marinette was kidnapped, it'll just come later.)


	10. Chapter 10

She wouldn’t tell them what had happened. Tom and Sabine had practically begged their daughter for answers. Where did she go after the akuma attack? Her teacher reported that she went to the nurse but never arrived. Why were her crutches found, abandoned, in the janitor’s closet? Why had they gotten a call from the hospital a couple hours later, after being worried sick, saying that she was there with several bruises and a concussion? And why did the hospital say it had been Chat Noir, of all people, to drop her off at the ER?

 

Marinette refused to say anything. She just stared blankly at the space ahead of her. The nurses assured her parents that the sudden muteness of their daughter was unrelated to her concussion.

 

They said Chat Noir had told them he had found her, injured, after the akuma attack on the school. That didn’t explain the gap in time, however. Nor how she managed to end up somewhere she was able to be injured without her crutches. No matter how hard they pressed, she refused to talk.

 

With her crutches retrieved from the school, Marinette was discharged. Her parents were instructed to wake her every two hours and to avoid screens and strenuous activity. Ice and Tylenol for pain, no ibuprofen. Make sure she was hydrated.

 

They were quiet on the drive home. Tom and Sabine shared a glance as they loaded her into the car. Marinette was refusing to even look at them now. During the ride home, she stared out the window as Paris flashed before her, a distant look in her eyes and an unreadable expression on her face.

 

“Maybe you should shut your eyes,” Tom ventured, “Too much eye strain is bad for your concussion.”

 

Marinette didn’t acknowledge that he had spoken.

 

“Marinette,” Tom admonished, a warning tone in his voice. He had to get her to speak to them, look at them even. Even if she weren’t answering their questions, they needed _something_.

 

“Yes, Papa,” she sighed, her voice small and quiet. Her eyes squeezed shut.

 

Another glance was shared between her parents, but Tom couldn’t help but sigh internally from relief. At least she spoke. They could work with this.

 

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to help her up the stairs to the apartment and another ten to help her up and through the trapdoor to her room. They kept pausing to allow her to regain balance or squeeze her eyes shut as she fought a wave a nausea. Even so, she kept going, a determined look in her eye. It was one they were all too familiar with.

 

“Perhaps it would be better if you stayed down here,” Sabine suggested. “We can make the couch up for you.”

 

Marinette ignored her mother in favor of continuing to struggle with the steep steps.

 

Sabine sighed. They helped her up the ladder and into her bed at Marinette’s further insistence. Sabine sent her husband down to fetch some water and extra-strength Tylenol.

 

She gazed at her daughter who was propped up, half-sitting, in bed. Her head leaned back against the wall and Sabine stared at the deep purple bruises coloring her cheek under her right eye. She was at a loss. What happened to all the superficial childhood injuries that could be kissed away and fixed with band-aid sporting the image of a cartoon character? What had happened that she was so afraid to talk to them? And how was Chat Noir involved? Because she wasn’t injured in that akuma attack, that much Sabine knew for sure.

 

“Marinette,” she tried again, her voice soft and motherly, “I don’t know what’s happening with you, but you don’t have to tell us right now. Take your time. We’ll be here when you’re ready to talk to us.”

 

Her daughter’s eyes opened but favored staring at her hands over meeting the gaze of her worried mother. Her lips moved but no words came out.

 

Sabine continued. “You know your papa and I love you very much. You can tell us anything.”

 

“I know, Maman.” Marinette’s voice was thick and Sabine tried to ignore how it broke when she spoke.

 

Tried and failed. A few seconds later, she had joined her daughter on the bed and wrapped her arms around her as tightly as she could without straining her injuries. That was all it took for a sob, originating from Marinette, to shake them both. Sabine rocked with her slightly, careful of the motion not to upset her daughter’s nausea from the concussion, as the large, hot tears consumed her baby girl.

 

“Its okay,” Sabine cooed, “Let it out, sweetie.”

 

She began to gently stroke her daughter’s matted hair, humming softly. She could only image what had happened. The longer Marinette cried in her arms, the worse she assumed. What the worst was, she wasn’t sure. There were too many unknowns. But she knew her daughter. Her daughter was strong. She would talk to them when she was ready. They just had to give her time. But as she held Marinette like a small child and listened to her sobs subside into soft and steady breaths, Sabine felt her heart breaking.

 

At some point, the trapdoor below opened, and Tom peered out. Sabine nodded her head slightly at the ladder, telling him to leave the water and painkillers there for her in case she woke up before they woke her. Her husband gave her a soft smile and left mother and daughter in privacy.

 

When she was finally sure Marinette was asleep, she forced herself to pull herself away, and went back down stairs to where Tom was working furiously in the bakery. Coping, she supposed. Trying not to think of what could put their strong, resilient daughter in such a state. Because someone had hurt her baby girl. And she vowed to find out who.

 

* * *

  

Chat Noir waited until it was dark to go and see her. He had hung around the hospital and watched from afar as she left with her parents. Marinette. _Ladybug_. She seemed to be in a distant haze, walking like she couldn’t see the world in front of her. He knew he had to give her time, but this was all the time he could handle before growing restless.

 

When he arrived at her balcony, he peered down through the skylight to see her curled in a ball on her bed. How she got up there in her state was beyond him. He hesitated before knocking lightly on the glass. She didn’t respond. He tried again, and this time she shrunk, curling tighter in on herself. He opened the skylight.

 

“You looked,” she accused without moving to look at him as he peered down. Her voice was thick and hoarse.

 

“I had to be able to find you again. We have to figure out what to do.” He reasoned with her.

 

Marinette shook, sobs rocking her shoulders. She looked so helpless and vulnerable. It broke his heart.

 

“M’Lady,” he began, but stopped as her sobs grew. He sighed.

 

“Marinette,” he tried again, but again received no response. “Princess?”

 

She pushed herself upright and finally looked at him. The action in itself seemed to take great effort. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose caked with snot, and her hair framed her face in a tangled mess. She looked angry, or as angry as she could muster.

 

“What, Chat?” Her voice was icy now. She sniffed and wiped her face, all the while maintaining eye contact. “What?”

 

“I—” Chat began but faltered. She just seemed so broken. He realized there was nothing he could say to make her feel better right now. He tried to look away from her piercing gaze but found himself looking at her ears instead. Her ears which seemed to scream their distinct lack of earrings. Her eyes were better, he thought, but not by much.

 

“Exactly,” she said, her words shaking. “Just leave me alone.”

 

He didn’t move.

 

“Go away, Chat!” she screamed, breaking finally, and looking away. “Just go.”

 

He didn’t know what to say or what to do. That either of them would lose their miraculous had never occurred to him. And he certainly never even considered that he would find out his lady’s identity this way. And he never thought it would be Marinette. Marinette who sat behind him every day in class. Marinette who could barely speak a full sentence to him as Adrien but was warm and open and understanding with him as Chat. Marinette the class representative who stood up for others. If he was being completely honest with himself, he wondered why he didn’t see it sooner.

 

And now she was hurting. He couldn’t imagine the pain he’d be in if he had lost his miraculous. He wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her everything was all right, that they’d get through this. Together. He wanted to make her smile again.

 

But she didn’t want anything to do with him. Not now.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said to her back, watching her shoulders clench at his words. He bit back tears of his own as he slowly closed the skylight and walked towards the railing of her balcony. He stood there for a moment, gazing out over the city. Marinette really did have a great view. He remembered another night, not too long ago, when they both gazed out upon the city of lights with heavy hearts. His problems then seemed small in comparison. He wished she was up here with him. They could laugh about how naïve they were, and she could revel in his mortification that he had admitted his feelings about Ladybug _to_ Ladybug without even realizing it. None of that seemed to matter now. Perhaps they would be able to, one day. They would get her miraculous back and things would go back to normal. Well, not normal. Things would never be the same again.

 

He was about to leave when he heard her voice.

 

“I know he’s only trying to help.”

 

Confused, he bounded back over to the window where he saw her holding onto something red.

 

“You’re right,” she said, hugging the object closer. “I just need to be alone right now. I didn’t want him to see me like this.”

 

Upon further inspection, Chat saw the object was none other than the Ladybug doll she had made, the one Puppeteer had tried to control her with.

 

“I know, Tikki,” she muttered to the doll. “I know.”

 

Chat observed her for a few seconds more, before vaulting off the rooftop and towards his home. He didn’t know what to feel any more.

 

When he reached his room and had climbed in through the open window, he released his transformation. Plagg flew out of his ring and stared at his chosen, opting not to pester him about cheese at this moment.

 

Adrien sighed, looking out the window and then back at his kwami, absently fiddling with the band of his ring, circling it around his finger.

 

“Plagg, who’s Tikki?” He asked finally.

 

Plagg hesitated for a moment before responding. “Ladybug’s kwami,” he said, confirming Adrien’s suspicions.

 

Adrien collapsed on his bed, falling back onto the pillows. Maybe if they swallowed him, he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. It was too much. Plagg flitted over to float by his ear.

 

“Come on kid,” the kwami groaned. “Don’t just lay there.”

 

“It’s too much, Plagg.”

 

“What?”

 

“Marinette is Ladybug. My dad is probably Hawkmoth. He stole her miraculous. And I’m Chat Noir.”

 

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Yes, and?”

 

Adrien sat up to face him, his face lost. “What are we going to do?”

 

“I don’t know, kid,” Plagg sighed. For once there was no hint of snark in his tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	11. Chapter 11

Alya visited the next day. Of course she did. She was Marinette’s best friend. Marinette couldn’t fault her for being worried. She couldn’t really fault any of them. Even Chat Noir. But the pain was still fresh and all she wanted to do was curl into herself and ignore the world around her.

 

The world had other plans. In the form of Alya.

 

Her mom and dad she could ignore. Chat Noir she could yell at and get him to leave. Alya? No such luck.

 

Marinette was still up in her loft bed. She had been woken every two hours by her parents throughout the night. Every other awakening was accompanied with water and if she was in pain, ibuprofen. She was always in pain and only some of it could be dulled by painkillers.

 

She hadn’t been able to fall back asleep since the last time her mom gently nudged her awake. That must have been around six. At least another hour had passed, but Marinette wasn’t entirely sure. She watched as light began to stream through the little circular window across her room. The other windows had their curtains drawn, but this one invaded her room with the call of the day. She buried her head in a blanket to block out the offending light.

 

Marinette heard the muted voices of her parents in the apartment below. Talking about her, most likely. She knew she scared them. She knew they wanted answers. But she couldn’t tell them anything. If they knew their daughter was Ladybug…she didn’t want to think about how they’d react to her putting herself in danger day in and day out. Besides, she wasn’t even Ladybug anymore. Not without the miraculous.

 

The voices got a little louder and Marinette curled further under the blanket.

 

Her eyes fell upon the small Ladybug plush she had been pretending was Tikki and held it close. She knew it wasn’t really her kwami, but she felt so alone. Ever since becoming Ladybug, Tikki had been there. She had never been without the little red bug for long and now…Marinette didn’t know what to do. Tikki was her confidant, her adviser, her friend. Without her, Marinette was lost. It wasn’t just her miraculous she lost, it was her friend. And she had no idea how to get them both back. She had been badly beaten by her archenemy. She was injured. She had no powers. She had chased away her partner. She was alone and could see no way out of this mess.

 

“I wish you were here,” she whispered to the red doll in her arms, “I need you to tell me what to do. I’m nothing without you.”

 

She knew Tikki would be upset she said such a thing. Tikki would tell her she was Ladybug, with or without the earrings. That the miraculous wasn’t what made her a hero.

 

Marinette didn’t feel very much like Ladybug at the moment, though.

 

“Marinette?”

 

Marinette sat bolt upright in her bed, steadying herself when the wave of nausea and vertigo protested her sudden movement. In her mutterings, she hadn’t heard the trapdoor to her room open.

 

Alya stood in the center of the room, concern flooding her expression. Marinette thought what she must look like. She had bruises on her face. Her hair hadn’t been washed and there were dried tears caking her eyes, the remnants of their path clear on her cheeks. And she had been talking to herself.

 

“Who were you talking to?” Alya asked, approaching the ladder with caution evident in her voice. She was retraining herself, that much was obvious. Marinette could tell she wanted to jump right up, hug her friend, and ask her a million questions. Her parents must have warned her about their daughter’s fragile state.

“I wasn’t…I mean…I was talking, but—”

 

Alya cut her off, climbing the ladder. “Come on girl, its me. Stop stumbling over your words and talk to me.”

 

Marinette didn’t answer, she just looked away. Soon Alya was sitting at the top of the loft just a few feet away.

 

“I came to check up on you. Everyone is really worried.”

 

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She didn’t know what to say.

 

“Did you see the Ladyblog? Ladybug is back. She fought that akuma yesterday. Something seemed off about her though. My article has a bunch of theories. What do you think?”

 

Of course Alya would want to talk about Ladybug. Of course, of course, of course. Marinette opened her mouth to respond, still looking away, but closed it. She didn’t know what to say. She knew if she tried to talk about Ladybug, everything would come out. Like word vomit. The pain was too fresh. It was trapped inside her like a grenade and she needed to let it out, but she couldn’t. She _couldn’t._ Not without exposing everything. Yelling at Chat had helped a bit, but she couldn’t talk about Ladybug with Alya. She couldn’t do it.

 

“What is up with you?” Alya must have sensed her reluctance. “Your parents say you won’t talk to them.”

 

Marinette began to find avoiding eye contact difficult with Alya’s proximity. She bit her lip and continued to look anywhere but her best friend’s face. She didn’t know what to tell her. She had never been good at lying on the spot, at improvising. And a concussion didn’t do anything to help that fact.

 

“Where did you go yesterday? I talked to the nurse and she said you were never there. Your parents said your crutches were left in the Janitor’s closet. You were missing for over two hours, girl.”

 

Alya’s words continued, a bombardment on Marinette’s diminishing resolve, every possible excuse flew out the window with each new question. _The nurse must’ve forgotten I was there._ Gone. Alya would see right through that lie. It was too flimsy. _I was scared of the akuma. I was hiding._ Nope. They had found her “hiding spot” without her in it. _I got caught in the ruble and Chat Noir found me and took me to the hospital._ Not a chance. That was what she had been going with, what Chat had told her parents. But the timing was off. And she would have been healed from the Miraculous Cure. Alya would know that better than anyone.

 

All the while, Alya kept shooting up questions. One after another. Why had Chat brought her to the hospital? How did she get that bruise? Why wouldn’t she say anything? What happened? What happened? What happened? Peppered in through the expert line of questioning was more than a journalist looking for a story. It was her friend searching for answers. Her friend who wanted to help. Her friend. She curled in on herself further and further as Alya continued.

 

“What I don’t understand is how you disappeared for two hours without a trace. Its like you vanished. No one—”

 

Marinette cut her off with a sob, a strangled choked sound so heart wrenching, Alya was frozen. Only for a second, as she swept Marinette into a hug, much as her mother had the night before. Marinette cried, arms limp at her sides.

 

“I lost my earrings,” she whispered. She didn’t mean to. It fell out off her mouth before she could stop it. Word vomit.

 

Whatever Alya had been expecting her to say, whatever explanation she had hoped to hear, that wasn’t it. Her friend pulled away from the hug and held her at arm’s length. “What?”

 

Marinette’s hands gestured weakly to her ears. “I lost them,” she said in a voice so small, it was befitting of a mouse.

 

Alya’s eyes searched hers and Marinette was once again forced to look away. Look down. Stare at the blankets in her lap over the calculating expression her friend wore.

 

“You lost your earrings,” Alya said, her voice slow, each word rolling off her tongue with precision, disbelief clouding her tone.

 

Marinette could do nothing but nod mutely. Things were spiraling. “You’re upset because you lost your earrings,” Alya repeated. It wasn’t a question. Just a statement. A simple statement with so many implications behind it. “Losing your earrings…caused this?” Alya gestured to Marinette’s bruised and battered face.

 

Marinette winced. She couldn’t be sure what Alya was thinking, but it couldn’t be good. She could salvage this. She had to. Time to backtrack. “No, I—”

 

“No?” Alya looked at her incredulously. “Then what? Because girl, this is all you’ve given me. We’ve all been worried sick. First with the bridge and then you disappear and show up with _bruises_ and all you can say, the only explanation you give, is that _you lost your earrings._ And now you’re taking that back too. Marinette, you’ve got to talk to me. I—”

 

“Alya.” Marinette met her eyes. She was tired. Not physically. She had slept for nearly fourteen hours, which was nearly three times as much as she normally slept. No, she was exhausted mentally. Completely emotionally drained. She knew Alya could see it, could hear it in her voice, because Alya stopped her questioning and leveled her gaze with such a look of concern and compassion that it broke Marinette’s heart. She didn’t deserve a friend like Alya. “I’m tired,” she said.

 

Her friend’s eyes softened. “Of course. I shouldn’t have pushed. You scared me.”

 

“I know,” Marinette’s voice was small. “I’m sorry.”

 

Alya moved to retreat down the ladder. “I’ll let you rest.”

 

Marinette watched as she descended, making her way to the trapdoor through the dimly lit room. She hesitated. “You owe me answers when you’re ready, girl. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

 

Marinette smiled a small smile. At least she was consistent. “I know.”

 

Alya glanced around the room before she left through the door. Marinette couldn’t help but notice how her gaze lingered on the plush Ladybug doll sitting next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well its been a month. This semester has been literal hell and I'm so glad I only have a week and a half of classes left and then finals. I am so ready to be done.
> 
> In the world of Ladybug, I was personally really disappointed by the Hero's Day episodes. Like, I really didn't like them. They will not be considered a part of the cannon for this fic. And this might be an unpopular opinion, but I didn't really like Frozer either. What are your opinions?
> 
> As always let me know what you thought of the chapter. I've been blown away by all the positive responses I've gotten. Even if I don't reply, know that I deeply appreciate each and every one. Next chapter is written, so I will probably post it sometime next week. :)


	12. Chapter 12

Adrien sat at the long table, staring at the elegantly prepared meal in front of him. He had almost no appetite. In fact, his body was in turmoil. His stomach did flips of anxiety every time his thoughts strayed to Ladybug or Marinette, who were in fact the same person, or his father or Hawkmoth, who were probably the same person, or his own miraculous.

 

He drummed his fingers on the polished surface of the table, trying to convince himself to eat. He had to eat. Worrying wouldn’t do him any good. He had to have enough strength to defeat Hawkmoth or his father. Was there any use drawing a distinction anymore? He had to be able to get Marinette’s miraculous back. Marinette’s miraculous. Marinette. His Lady. Ladybug. He finally knew who she was, something he had wanted for as long as he could remember. Now he would be happy to have never found out. He would have happily lived in ignorance if it meant that this shit storm would go away; if she could be happy and healthy again and they could go back to saving Paris and stupid puns and wondering who Hawkmoth was.

 

As Adrien finally made up his mind and reached for his fork, the large doors to the atrium swing open and Nathalie strode inside. “Your father will be joining you tonight,” she said in her usual stoic manor. She stepped to the side and allowed him to see his father behind her, who crossed to the other side of the long table. Another door opened, and a chef hurried out and placed a meal in front of the Agreste patriarch, along with the proper table settings.

 

Adrien felt sick, his stomach once again in turmoil, his appetite completely vanished. The two sat, father and son, villain and hero, at opposite heads of the table, an impossibly large distance between them.

 

It was Gabriel who spoke first, breaking the stretch of silence with nothing more than his son’s name, “Adrien.”

 

Adrien shifted in his seat. He forced himself to look up and meet the eyes of the man who had raised him, the man he now knew was his enemy. “Father,” he said, unsuccessfully trying to keep the snark and anger out of his voice, “How nice of you to join me.”

 

“Watch your tone,” his father snapped.

 

Adrien straightened. He had to play this right, but the anxiety puddling in the pit of his stomach and the anger rising in his racing heart had conflicting opinions, but both told him he had to _act_. “Sorry, father,” he said, adopting a tone of innocence, “It’s just, I hardly see you anymore.”

 

He let the silent implication hang in the air. It was almost tangible. Adrien’s gaze drifted to the scarf tucked professionally into his father’s vest. Surely the miraculous, the butterfly brooch, was hidden underneath. At least, that’s where Hawkmoth wore it. Adrien felt his hands tighten into fists on the table.

 

His father’s expression had hardened when he noticed the direction of his son’s gaze, his eyes narrowing when drawn by the motion of Adrien’s hands and the silver ring which adorned his right fist.

 

They sat like that, neither touching their food, staring at the suspected miraculouses. Adrien imagined himself climbing across the table, pushing the dishes out of the way, and ripping the stupid brooch from his father’s stupid neck. He wanted to demand his father explain, demand why. Why was he doing this? Why was he terrorizing Paris? Why had he decided that being a super villain was more important than being a father? Instead he sat there, fists ever tightening in anger, his fingernails digging into his palms, even his toes began to curl. He knew his father was Hawkmoth. His father knew he knew. And they were at an impasse. He had to draw the attention away.

 

“I got an ‘A’ on that physics exam,” Adrien finally said.

 

Whatever his father had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. “What?” he asked.

 

“That physics exam, the one I was so worried about, I got a 98% on it. Highest in the class.”

 

Gabriel’s gaze softened slightly. “Of course you did,” he said, standing. He turned so his back was to Adrien, his arms folded behind him. “You are an Agreste.”

 

Adrien stood too, slowly, pushing the chair out behind him. It scraped against the floor, the drawn-out noise echoing around the cavernous dining room. His heart threatened to leap from his chest, the blood throbbing in his ears. He took a shaky breath.

 

“I know that you’re Hawkmoth.”

 

Silence. Adrien couldn’t see his father’s face and the man was perfectly still. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds by, the noise filling the room.

 

Finally, Gabriel sighed. “And you are Chat Noir.” His voice was bitter. “My own son.”

 

Adrien was taken aback. His father knew who he was. He hadn’t counted on that. He found himself taking a step back, clutching the hand with his miraculous towards his chest. His heart beat faster now. He had to get out of there. He turned towards the exit to the atrium and found his path blocked by none other than Nathalie.

 

“Nathalie, he’s Hawkmoth,” Adrien pleaded, “I have to—”

 

“I’m sorry Adrien,” Nathalie said, her mask of perfect composure never wavering, though Adrien thought a sympathetic look crossed her eyes.

 

He turned back to his father. “Why?” He asked to no one in particular. Hawkmoth. Nathalie. It didn’t matter.

 

“You’ll have to be more specific.” His father’s face was nearly as stoic as Nathalie’s, but there was something flickering beneath the surface, some unknown emotion threatening to break free. Was it joy?

 

Adrien’s jaw clenched. He glared daggers at the man in front of him. The man who claimed to be his father. The man who had locked him away his whole life to ‘protect’ him. The man who said the outside world was a dangerous place. The man who then turned around and did his part to make it that way. The man who kept him socially secluded. Who was emotionally distant. Who never took his wishes into consideration. The man who betrayed his trust, his loyalty, his love. Because yes, even with all of that, he had loved his father. And now, he was so conflicted, but all that he had left was anger.

 

“Why have you been terrorizing the city? Why do you want the miraculous? What deluded—”

 

“To bring your mother back.”

 

Adrien froze. The clock’s ticks filled the room once more. His mother. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts. They all sputtered away from shock and more conflicting emotions. “You-,” Adrien flailed outwardly, unable to express exactly what he felt.

 

“I can see you’re have difficulty processing this,” his father began, striding towards him. “So let me explain it to you.”

 

Gabriel picked up the chair Adrien had vacated and brought it over to where he currently stood. “Sit,” he commanded, and Adrien did so in a daze. His father glanced down at him to make sure he had his full attention. “When combined, the miraculouses of the Ladybug and the Black Cat grant the holder one reality altering wish. With that wish, I intend to bring your mother back to us.”

 

Adrien stared. “That sounds—”

 

“Too good to be true? Impossible?” his father interrupted. “I assure you, it’s not. And now that I have Ladybug’s miraculous, all I need is yours.”

 

Out of instinct, Adrien once again held his right hand to his chest. “Ladybug,” he breathed. His resolve solidified once more. “You hurt Ladybug. You hurt all those people.” He stood again, drawing himself up to his full height and standing his ground against his father. “If what you’re saying is even true, Mom would be horrified at what you’d done. She’d want nothing to do with you!” He turned away from his father and stalked back to the dining room’s exit. “And neither do I. Plagg, _Transformez-moi_!”

 

As the light from the transformation faded, Chat Noir found himself staring eye to eye with Nathalie, who’s mask finally seemed to break.

 

“Move,” he hissed. She didn’t seem to hear him, so he pushed past her dazed form, bounding out into the atrium and bursting through the front doors.

 

He faintly heard the cry of “Nooroo—” before extending his staff and leaping from rooftop to rooftop, the evening air biting at his face as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest, the adrenaline still pumping in his veins.

 

He had to run, to flee, to do something, to be anywhere but there. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. His father knew Marinette was Ladybug, so he couldn’t go to her. He would be expecting that. Besides, Chat Noir wasn’t even sure she wanted to see him. She had been so upset. Going to Nino's was also not an option. It would be one of the first places his father would check, after Marinette's. Besides, what would he even say?

 

He finally came to a stop on a random rooftop about three miles from his house. He stood breathing heavily, letting everything catch up to him: his breath, his emotions, his thoughts. He stared out at the city before him. The city that thought Ladybug had returned to them. The city that thought everything was back to normal. They had no idea of the battle that had begun. Chat Noir began to pace, thinking over what to do next. He couldn’t go home. He couldn’t go to Ladybug. He was truly out of options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien is in it now. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter. 
> 
> I am loving all the feedback you guys leave. Reading each one makes me smile like an idiot. I was so nervous to start posting my work, but this has been such a great experience and it has been because of all of you who read this. Even those of you who don't comment, seeing the amount of people my work has touched has been life changing and boosted my confidence greatly. I can't believe this story is at over 400 kudos. I wish there was something more than "thank you" I could say that could better express my gratitude.


	13. Chapter 13

The Ladybug doll wasn’t helping. Marinette found herself talking to it more often than not. Or she would accidentally speak as though Tikki were still there and then cover it up by pretending she had been speaking with the doll all along. Which made no sense because it wasn’t like there was anyone there to question her sanity for talking to no one. And talking to a doll wasn’t any better.

 

The slight delirium from the concussion had passed. As had the initial shock of her trauma. Seeing Alya had helped. But two more days had passed and now Marinette just felt useless. Useless and helpless. She had no idea what to do. She should have had some plan in place for if Hawkmoth ever succeeded in taking one of their Miraculouses. She was Ladybug, for crying out loud. She had a plan and a backup plan and backups for backups. Why had she never planned for this?

 

And even then, she had had Tikki to guide her. Throughout all of it, Tikki was there to help her plan, to advise her and provide her with the Lucky Charms. Without Tikki, she didn’t think she knew how to be Ladybug.

 

She kept repeating Tikki’s words to her over and over in her head. _You are Ladybug, with or without the costume._ She found herself believing them less and less as she tried to figure out what to _do._

 

Marinette was back on her chaise as she pondered this. Staying in bed was just too depressing. As she wanted to do was curl in on herself and wallow in her loss. Being down on the chaise was better. It made her feel like she was being productive in some way, even if she was no closer to any solution on how to handle her predicament. She berated herself, not for the first time, for sending Chat away. Without her yo-yo, she had no way of contacting him. Now, more than ever, she needed his help.

 

Her mother pushed through the trapdoor around noon with sandwiches and some tea; her parents didn’t want her returning to school yet. With the concussion and the events that occurred that last time she attended, they were worried of a repeat incident. Or, if not a repeat incident, something else to add to the long list of things currently plaguing their daughter.

 

“How are you feeling today?” Sabine probed.

 

Marinette responded with a noncommittal shrug. “Fine.”

 

Her mother sighed and Marinette felt guilty. She knew her parents were looking for her to give them _something_ , but she just didn’t know what to tell them. She couldn’t tell them she was Ladybug. She couldn’t. But she saw the pain on their faces every time she denied them answers and it broke her heart. On top of everything, it hurt the most that she couldn’t let her parents into her life. She had no one to confide in, no one she could _actually_ talk to. No wonder she kept talking to that stupid doll.

 

Sabine sat with Marinette after pouring her tea and watched as she picked at her sandwich. Marinette felt the gaze of her mother and kept her own eyes firmly on her lunch. “I’m here if you ever need to talk,” Sabine probed after a few minutes of silence.

 

“I know, Maman,” Marinette replied in a small voice. She didn’t trust herself to meet the desperate look she knew was in her mother’s eyes. She found herself repeating the phrase more and more, every time her mother tried to reassure her and get her to open up. She knew her parents were worried. Her papa seemed especially upset that he wasn’t able to protect her. She knew that if he could just figure out who had hurt her, he would lead a crusade against them. She saw how much they cared, and she knew she was hurting them, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She knew they felt as helpless as she did. Once all this was over, Marinette vowed to never make her parents feel this way again.

 

Her eyes drifted away from the sandwich and fell upon the teapot her mother was using to refill her own cup and it hit her like a lucky charm. Of course. She wondered why she didn’t think of it before.

 

She had to go see Master Fu.

 

* * *

 

 

That evening, after her parents had gone to sleep, Marinette carefully arranged her pillows under the blanket as Tikki had shown her and began the long and arduous process down the steep stairs to her room and the several flights of stairs from the apartment to the street. Her progress consisted of slow and deliberate movements as she tried to minimize the sound of the metallic crutches echoing in the stairwell.

 

After nearly an hour of treacherous progress, she was finally out the front door and on her way. She knew it probably wasn’t the safest idea to be wandering the streets alone at night, especially in her current condition. She had some Ladybug confidence left over, even though the absence of the weight on her earlobes was extremely noticeable. She felt bare without them, weak and vulnerable. She no longer had her super powers to protect her, but she carried herself as though she did. Marinette didn’t think she’d be able to do this if she didn’t.

 

The lights were all out in Master Fu’s apartment when she arrived. Understandably, the old man must have been asleep. But Marinette’s knocking was insistent, and soon a light flicked on and Master Fu opened the door.

 

“Marinette?” He asked, his weariness evident in his voice.

 

Wayzz flitted up from behind the man to float at Marinette’s eye level. “What’s happened? Tikki is not with you.”

 

Marinette’s eyes burned as the tears welled up and threatened to spill over. Both master and kwami seemed to notice the state of the girl before them at the same time and adopted similar frowns.

 

Master Fu opened the door wider, “Come inside.” Once they were seated, he poured her a cup of tea. “We saw on the news that you were missing,” he began, “Tell me what happened.”

 

“Hawkmoth took my Miraculous.” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper and wavered as she spoke. Her eyes bore into the teacup in her hand and she refused to look up. She didn’t want to see the disappointment she knew would be on Master Fu’s face. He had trusted her with the Ladybug Miraculous and she had let a villain take it. She had failed him. She began to think coming here was a bad idea.

 

Master Fu sighed and Marinette struggled to figure out what type of sigh it was without seeing his face, but she still didn’t look up. “You are injured,” he said, “what happened?”

 

She didn’t reply and she wanted to kick herself. She had been wanting to talk to someone who knew everything and here was her chance, so why was she frozen like this?

 

Fu sighed again, softer this time. “Marinette, look at me.” And she did. Somehow, she did. His face was worried, concern written in every wrinkle. Wayzz hovered next to him, a similar expression adorning his features. There was no disappointment. No anger. “Tell me what happened,” Master Fu repeated.

 

“I got hurt as Marinette when an akuma attacked,” she began. She walked through the events of the past week and a half, studying their expressions carefully as she spoke. The concern remained, but other than that, no reactions were betrayed on their faces. They simply listened as told them her story. “And Chat rescued me,” she concluded, “he saw who I was. He knows my identity. And Hawkmoth has my Miraculous. I’ve ruined everything.”

 

“No Marinette,” Master Fu chided, “It is not your fault.”

 

“It feels like it is.”

 

Fu shook his head, “It is the fault of the one who abuses the Miraculous. Hawkmoth. I have faith that you will find a way to retrieve the Miraculous and defeat him. I chose you for a reason. You _are_ Ladybug.”

 

Marinette hung her head. His faith was heavy on her shoulders, especially since she _didn’t know what to do_. It was the same as with her classmates. Everyone seemed so sure of her. And it just made her failure seem worse. It felt like that first akuma attack and her failure to capture the akuma, but this time it was worse because she had built up everyone’s hope before letting them down. “I’ve thought it before, but now I know, you chose wrong.”

 

“I have only chosen wrong once, and I have learned from my mistakes. As you have with your own.”

 

“I keep making mistakes, though,” Marinette pushed, “I’m sure I’m the worst Ladybug ever.”

 

“To make mistakes is to be human, Marinette. Every Ladybug is different and as long as you learn from your failures, they do not define you.”

 

“Master Fu is right, Marinette,” Wayzz chimed in, “You are an excellent Ladybug.”

 

Marinette was quiet and back to staring at the now-empty cup in her hands. Her cheeks were warm and wet with tears now, which slipped silently from her eyes the more she willed them not to.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Marinette whispered.

 

“Hmm,” Master Fu stroked his beard and stood, wandering over to where he kept the printed photographs of the Miraculous book. “You are right that you cannot do much in your injured state, but I do believe we have a solution.” He flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “Aha!” he exclaimed and Wayzz covered his eyes and flitted to the corner of the room.

 

“With this potion,” Master Fu said, “I can restore your injuries to the state they were in before they were strained by your transformation. You will still be injured, but it will aid in your healing process and prevent further damage from transformations.”

 

Marinette struggled to stand and face him in awe. “You can do that?”

 

“It will be a tricky potion to create,” Fu said, “but yes, I believe I can.”

 

Marinette stumbled forward and pulled Master Fu into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered as he patted her back. “I don’t deserve your help.”

 

“Yes, Marinette, you do.” He pulled away from the hug and maneuvered to the ancient gramophone. “Once the potion is administered, you will choose a new Miraculous to use temporarily until you can retrieve your own.” The box opened to display the vast array of Miraculouses.

 

Marinette settled down in front of it, a pit forming in her stomach. Her hand reached out to hover delicately above the box as she stared at the glittering jewels. Her eyes darted around, looking at each of them in turn, before falling to rest on the empty space where the Ladybug earrings once rested. She glanced at the blank spaces that once held the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses and drew her hand back, holding it close to her chest.

 

“No,” she said, her voice stronger than she felt.

 

“Marinette?” Fu asked.

 

“I can’t. I…I don’t deserve another chance. I lost my Miraculous. I can’t take another. You-you shouldn’t trust me to have another.” She was blabbering now, shaking and hugging herself tightly.

 

“I believe you are wrong, Marinette.” Fu said, his old voice gentle.

 

“No.” Marinette said, pushing the box of Miraulouses away.

 

Master Fu sighed. “Perhaps then, it is time to call an old ally back into service.”

 

Marinette hesitated before reaching out and grabbing the Fox Miraculous. She had always known that Alya would be a better hero than her. It had been her gut reaction all those months ago and now she knew it to be true. She stared at the necklace in her hand with a newfound determination. She didn’t feel much better coming here, but now at least she had a plan. Now at least she could be useful. Now, she had a chance to fix her mistake. She stood slowly, shifting her weight onto the crutches. “Thank you for your help, Master,” she said.

 

Master Fu just looked at her, his old face etched with sadness. “I will deliver the potion to you when it is ready,” he said as she began to hobble towards the door. “Trust in your friends and in yourself, Marinette, and you will succeed. Find Chat Noir. Even without your Miraculous, you are still a team. I have faith that Ladybug will return to Paris.”

 

Faith again. Faith in her. It burned in her chest. “I will get the Ladybug Miraculous back,” she said with more confidence than she felt, “But once I do, you’ll have to find a new Ladybug.”

 

Marinette didn’t wait for his reply as she stalked off into the Paris night.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo! Where have I been? It has been over three months and all I can say is...oops. My bad.
> 
> I could give excuses about this being my final semester and preparing for graduation and finding a job and all that, but the truth is that I kind of fell out of love with Miraculous Ladybug. Some of the episodes were falling flat or felt really cringy and I was struggling with the motivation to continue, even though I wanted more than anything to complete this story. 
> 
> And then those last two episodes hit me. Animaestro and Oblivo renewed my love for the show and renewed my motivation for writing this fic. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll be back with regular updates for all of you and I just wanted to thank everyone for your continued support in this story. Every email I got about kudos or a comment made me feel like writing this fic is worth it. I will not abandon this story, no matter how much of a lull there is between chapters. And there may be some more lulls. I will try my best, but like I said, this is my final semester and I have a lot of work to do for my senior design project and my internship and preparing for graduation and looking for a job...
> 
> I love all of you. Thanks for reading and sticking with me :)


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